


Willful Blindness

by Teague (macteague)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Protective Oliver Wood, Sexual Harassment, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-11-01
Updated: 2001-11-01
Packaged: 2019-10-17 15:22:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17563025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macteague/pseuds/Teague
Summary: Separating truth from perception can be a messy business.





	1. Discoveries

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. There is discussion of sexual harassment in this story, so if this is triggering for you, please skip this story.   
> 2\. If you're a die-hard Marcus Flint fan, you might want to skip this one. While I like some of the fandom redemptions of the character, I did not like or trust his character in the books.  
> 3\. I've changed a few facts around, as you may notice. Generally, anything I write is automatically AU to some degree, but this one is more so than most. IE. Sites I checked disagreed with me about Flint's age, I've moved Hogsmeade weekends around, started the Quidditch practices earlier, and of course, none of this happened in the books. *grin*  
> 4\. Takes place during book three. I have used some dialogue from the book almost unchanged.   
> 5\. I stole Tim from a movie. If you can't guess which movie, I'll be delighted to tell you.  
> 6\. This was written in 2001
> 
> ~~  
> Thanks to: Rachel and Sara, for beta-reading, and putting up with my incessant pestering. This woudn't have been written without them.  
> ~~

In which Oliver discovers some unpleasant facts and a deal is made.

 

Oliver Wood, seventh-year student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, strolled through the corridors against the flow of students. Three weeks into the term and there had, as yet, been no upsetting events for once. Well, other than the dementors, and Sirius Black on the loose. Since Dumbledore wouldn’t permit either on school grounds, there would be nothing to distract him from Quidditch this year, or so he hoped, as he dodged a group of giggling 2nd-year girls. He was heading for a meeting with Professor McGonagall about scheduling an extra practice session for the Quidditch team. This year he meant to win.

The halls fell quiet as the students entered the classrooms. As Oliver rounded the corner, he heard a voice say sternly, "Look, back off, I've told you before, I am NOT interested."

Oliver paused.  _Percy Weasley? What's he doing out of class? I've never heard him sound quite that upset with Fred and George before. What have they done now? Knowing them, something to deserve yet another of Percy's infamous lectures..._

"Weasley, you're not with the Ravenclaw bitch any more, there's no reason for you to refuse me," came Marcus Flint's voice.  _Flint?_ Oliver hated the Slytherin captain, and it sounded like he was picking on Percy. Without thinking, Oliver wheeled around and sped down the corridor the voices came from.

Percy Weasley was tall, but he looked frail beside Flint, who was half a head taller and considerably heavier. He had Percy backed into a corner. Percy looked furious, and a little afraid.

"I told you before, it had nothing to do with Penny. Get it through your head, Flint," Percy said, starting to push past him.

Flint shoved Percy back. Oliver winced at the audible thud as Percy's head hit the wall. "We're not done here, Weasley."

"What's going on?" Oliver growled at the Slytherin boy.

Flint jumped a bit and turned on him. "None of your business, Wood. Weasley and I are having a private conversation."

Percy, however, had seized his chance to slip away and now stood closer to Oliver. "The conversation is OVER," he said, in his haughtiest voice. "And it will NOT be necessary to discuss this matter again. Oliver." he nodded to him and started walking away. With a glare at Flint, Oliver followed him.

They walked in silence down the hall for a couple minutes, Percy unnaturally silent. Oliver eyed him, trying to figure out what it was exactly that Flint had been trying to get from Percy. He could tell the other boy was upset, because although he kept his usual calm expression on his face, he was shaking slightly, and he'd normally be chattering on about some obscure item he'd read or his classwork.  _Maybe if I just wait he'll tell me? Not likely. Percy may talk a lot, but he rarely actually SAYS anything about himself or his problems. Maybe it's none of my business. I mean, it looked like he was handling the situation pretty well, but -_

"What is Flint after Percy?" he heard himself say.  _Okay, or you could just ask him flat out with no tact whatsoever. Way to go, Oliver._

Percy went red and looked at his feet.  _He's blushing... oh NO WAY! Marcus Flint? Percy? That's just bloody disturbing!_

"Marcus has - " Percy hesitated, then blurted, "a bit of a crush on me I guess you'd say..."

"And I take it you're not interested?" Oliver tried to make his voice sound neutral, but it came out a bit squeaky.

"No!" Percy half yelled at him. "I've hated him since the first time I met him! He's always been a bully, not to mention he's SLYTHERIN, in case you didn't notice, and REGULARLY cheats at Quidditch!"

_Great, now I've insulted him. Huh. I notice he didn't list 'he's a boy' anywhere in that list._  "Calm down Percy, I was just making sure. You didn't look like you had any interest in him. You'd have probably handled him just fine if I hadn't come along." Percy looked a bit appeased, the glare dying down _. Now how to say this without making him mad again._  "He seemed a bit pushy about it to me. If he does anything like that again, you'd better report him. You've got his number pretty much right on; he's a bully. He's also quite persistent when he wants something."

Percy looked mortified. "Of- of course. Thank you for your assistance, Oliver, I am late for class, I must go" he said, at his most stuffy, before departing hastily, without looking at Oliver.

_Now THAT was strange... Why did he - oh no. How much do you want to bet that that is NOT the first time Flint's cornered him_?  _He told him that he’d said 'before' that he wasn’t interested._ A sudden sick feeling gripped Oliver as it occurred to him that Flint WAS considerably stronger than Percy, and likely not above making him do something he didn't want to do.  _I'm going to have to catch Percy later and find out what exactly has been going on._

He glanced up and realized he'd gone right past Professor McGonagall's office. He turned around and there she was staring at him from the doorway. "Are you all right, Wood? You seem upset." She waved a hand at him, and Oliver realized he'd been scowling and muttering as he stomped along considering the issue.

"Yeah, sorry Professor, I got caught up in my thoughts" he said, following her into her office. He settled himself in the chair and launched into his request for the extra practice session. She agreed, and then rambled a bit about the team's chances at the cup this year, which just didn't seem as important today as it usually did.

"Oliver?" He looked up at Professor McGonagall who was looking at him with some concern. Abruptly, he hadn't realized he hadn't been responding. "Oliver, is something bothering you?"

She must be worried to be calling him by his first name. "Nothing, Professor. I'm just a little distracted today. Sorry," he said. She continued to look at him, with a considering expression.  _Maybe I should just tell her? No, Percy would be angry, and he'd be right. I don't know all the facts. Still, maybe a general idea?_ "I think Flint's been bullying one of the Gryffindors, I haven't gotten any proof yet, and I've been trying to think what to say to the one being bullied."

"I see..." said Professor McGonagall "And you don't feel comfortable telling me the student's name? I could have a chat with them..."

Oliver winced internally at the mere thought of Percy faced with a Professor determined to discuss Flint's crush on him. He knew from experience that she could be as stubborn as a dog with a bone, when she wanted to be.  _He may not want to talk to me about it, but he's got to prefer me to the alternative! McGonagall is nice, but I wouldn’t want to discuss anything… embarrassing with her._

"I don't think he'd-I mean, they'd want me to say anything just yet Professor. If the person IS having a problem with Flint, I'll convince him to come and talk to you," he offered.

"Very well," said McGonagall, standing up. "I'll let you go on with your day then Wood, just see that if there IS a situation you report it as opposed to dealing with it yourself." She gave him a meaningful look and Oliver blushed, having been called to task a few times when he was younger for dealing with bullies rather...directly.

Tomorrow’s Saturday, I’ll track him down and ask him what is going on. And hopefully convince him to talk to either Professor McGonagall or Headmaster Dumbledore.

~~

There was no doubt about it. Percy was avoiding him.

For two days now Oliver had been looking for a chance to speak to Percy about the whole thing with Flint, and for two days Percy had vanished when he entered the room or remembered a sudden errand when Oliver spoke to him, or miraculously been fast asleep.

_I'm starting to feel like Flint, trying to trap him in corners. This isn't working. I need bait of some sort.... What would make him go off with me to talk, of his own volition?_  An evil smile crossed Oliver's face.  _Of course..._

Percy was sitting by himself at the end of one of the long tables in the common room. Oliver saw his eyes on him and feinted, turning as if heading to the dormitory. Percy relaxed and went back to his work.  _Just like Quidditch_ thought Oliver, feeling a bit guilty for the subterfuge. He changed angles again, and approaching from behind Percy seated himself on the bench next to him.

"Hey Percy, I'm having trouble with Snape's essay. Could you give me a hand?" he asked, with what he hoped was a profoundly innocent look.

"Snape's essay? But that's due tomorrow!" Percy fussed. "You really should have finished it by now." He gave Oliver a very suspicious look.

Oliver grimaced internally as several 3rd-year students glanced down from the other end of the table to hear the great Captain of the Quidditch team scolded for not doing his homework.  _This had better work, after all this embarrassment._  "It's most of the way done, but I found this paragraph that might back up my thesis, but it has this really obscure reference, and I figured you might be able to decipher it for me."

Percy, evidently deciding he was on the level, lost the aggravated impatience. "Certainly I'll take a look at it, do you have the book with you?"

"No, I couldn't take it out, but Madam Pince is holding it for me while I went to find you," Oliver said.

Percy hesitated.

Oliver sighed. "C'mon Percy, just a few minutes of your time!" he added, coaxingly. He noticed Fred and George look at him strangely as they passed by.  _And the worst part of this is, Percy's not even going to appreciate the fact that I've embarrassed myself by nearly begging for help with my work in order to help him._

Percy shrugged and gathered up his books. "All right then, let's go."

_Hmph. I suppose that’s the best I can hope for... He suspects what this is about though. He doesn't usually give people a hard time when they ask for help. One of Percy's chief weak points is that he just can't turn away from someone asking for help._

They walked to the library in silence, and then Oliver pointed to one of the back corners. "I left my books at the back there, come on," he said.

As they sat down at the table, Percy took in the lack of books. "Your books?"

"I lied."

"I suspected as much. What is it you want?" Percy said, sounding exasperated.

"I want to know how long Marcus Flint has been harassing you like that."

Percy looked away. "I really don't see why that matters, I am perfectly able to handle the situation - "

Oliver just looked at him, with great patience.

"Just off and on you understand, it's not like it's a constant thing -"

"When did he start doing this?" Oliver enunciated clearly, attempting to stop the flustered babbling.

Percy slumped in his chair and mumbled something.

"Pardon?"

" The end of 5th year."

"FIFTH YEAR? He's been harassing you all this time?" Oliver burst out.  _This puts everything in an even worse light. This is...not good._

"It wasn't constant, and he's only gotten this bad lately. He used to be content with sending me notes and making comments. However, since Penelope and I broke up over the summer, he seems to think that I will change my mind about him." Percy looked tired, a bitter note seeping into his voice.

"Percy, why haven't you gone to McGonagall? Or even Dumbledore?" Oliver asked, horrified. "It's one thing to avoid someone who's got an unrequited crush on you; it's another to try to pretend someone's not threatening you!"

"It's not that big a deal," answered Percy. "This is my last year here; all I have to do is avoid him. He's not threatening me, exactly, he's just making a pest of himself."

"Avoid him? Percy, he's in most of your classes, at least the ones you have with me, and he generally sits right near you. Which of course- " Oliver stumbled "is deliberate on his part, isn't it."

"It hasn't been a problem till this year," Percy said in a flat voice. "I don't read the notes he passes me, and I just ignore him. I suppose that may be why he keeps trying to corner me outside of class lately. You don't need to be concerned, Oliver, he only caught me the other day because I wasn’t paying attention and I won't allow it to happen again. I was thinking about the essay assigned for Muggle Studies and didn’t notice him."

"You shouldn't have to be afraid for your safety at Hogwarts!" Oliver said. "Percy, if you report him, he'll be thrown out of here so fast his head will spin. None of the teachers would stand for this, not even Snape! Remember that Ravenclaw who was expelled back when we were in first year? Look, we can go to McGonagall now, she should be in her office - "

"No," said Percy firmly. "Look, I appreciate your concern. I can handle this. The last thing I need is for everyone to find out about this. I'm the Head Boy and the younger students look up to me."

"What? Nobody's going to blame you for this! If the rest of Gryffindor found out there'd be a mass rush to attack him."  _He can't really think people would lose respect for him because Flint's got a nice little obsession going, can he?_

Percy was shaking his head, looking alarmed... "Please, Oliver. Just -just leave it alone, okay?"

_Apparently, he can..._

"Fine, I’ll leave it alone on one condition:" Oliver said sternly. He would never have even considered this, but Percy looked so desperate. And he found he'd agree to just about anything if it would get the pleading tone out of his voice. _Percy Weasley does not plead. He doesn't even ASK most of the time. He orders, he demands, he instructs, and he just expects to be listened to._

Percy nodded, still looking anxious.

"You let me know if he does ANYTHING else, even another one of these notes, okay? Especially if it's a note. Don't destroy it, just bring it to me."

Percy was beet red now "You don't want to read one of those notes," he mumbled.

"Percy, it's this deal or we go to McGonagall now, which is the MUCH better option!"  _Come on Percy, show some sense here._

"Very well, if he does anything else, I'll tell you," Percy said, resigned. "But you have to swear you won't tell anyone."

Faced with eyes burning with determination, Oliver sighed and agreed. "I swear. As long as you let me help, I won't tell anyone."

Percy nodded, and picked up his books as he started to leave. Before he'd gotten more than a half dozen paces away though he turned around and looked at Oliver awkwardly. "I do appreciate what you are trying to do, however much I wish you wouldn't get involved," he said, before turning swiftly and walking out of the library.

Oliver put his head in his hands.  _Well, that went well, didn't it. He's not going to tell me anything. Stupid Weasley pride. Or maybe just stupid Percy pride. I'm just going to have to keep an eye out to see if I can catch Flint out. Or better yet, catch Flint alone somewhere, with none of his Slytherin lackeys to stop me from beating him within an inch of his life._


	2. The New Order

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which circumstances change, much to the displeasure of certain people.

The next day in Charms, Oliver dragged his seatmate towards the front of the class. Percy Weasley was already seated, front and centre. Oliver picked two desks one row over and one back.

"Oliver!" his friend Tim hissed at him. "What are you doing? We always sit at the back."

"Well, today we're being different and sitting over here. Stop fussing!" Oliver said, annoyed.  _I can see it now: Gee Tim, I want to sit up here so I can make sure Flint isn't hitting on Percy Weasley. Then Percy never forgives me, and Tim looks at me and says 'Percy Weasley? As in the very polite chap who has roomed with us for the past 6 years and never once shown the slightest interest in having anything to do with us? The one we gave up even ASKING to do anything with us last year?' Oh yeah, this is just great...._

Oliver broke out of his musing as Flint sauntered into the room, flanked by Rand, Edwards, and Christian. As usual, he took his place directly behind Percy. Because Oliver was watching this time, he saw Percy lean forward a bit more in his chair, away from the Slytherin boy whose eyes were currently boring a hole in the back of his head.

Fancies him? Looks like he HATES him, more like. Maybe Percy misinterpreted? No, he wouldn't. This is just twisted ... I should go to McGonagall and give her an 'anonymous' tip after class. Percy's worried for no reason. No one's going to think less of him or think it's his fault, and if he never talks to me again, so what! Not like we hold long heart-to-hearts now!

His concentration was shot. He kept glancing over at Flint, but he didn't do anything for the entire class. Just took notes and stared at the back of Percy's head. When class ended, Percy went to the front of the class to talk to the Professor about some point or other in the lecture. Flint wasn't getting up, but sent his friends on to the next class.  _They stay, I stay_.

Tim was standing by his desk. "Oliver? Class?" he stared at him.

"I'll be along shortly, I need to speak to the Professor. You go ahead." Oliver said.

"All right," said Tim dubiously.

Percy stayed talking to the teacher till Oliver was convinced they were going to be late. As he passed him, Flint got up and followed Percy out of the room, walking very close behind him. Oliver rose and followed them from the room, surprised that neither of them had seemed to notice him.

Just outside the door, Flint caught Percy by the back of the neck. Percy winced, and went rigid, knuckles whitening as he gripped his books harder. Flint leaned in, whispering something to Percy, who was trying to twist away from the tight grip holding him in place.

Oliver caught up and grabbed Flint's wrist, pulling him away from Percy. The look Percy shot him was a combination of relief, misery, and panic. "Keep your hands to yourself, Flint," he snapped.  _I can't believe Percy would put up with this just to keep people from finding out._

"What's it to you, Wood, you got a thing for little Weasley-girl here?" Flint said, voice oozing with false sweetness. He stalked away, face dark with fury at the interference.

Oliver reached out and put his hand on Percy's shoulder. Percy flinched.  _Aw Christ, he isn't handling this anywhere NEAR as well as he keeps pretending. And of course, none of us noticed._ "You okay?"

Percy wet his lips, and looked up, rather pale. "Yes, I'm fine. Thank you for your concern. I can usually shake him at the crook in the hall just down there, on those few days the professor isn't walking that direction; you don't have to spend all your time running around protecting me. I'm quite capable of taking care of myself."

_I don't think he even realizes that he just gave away that he waits for the professor to leave in hopes of a kind of unofficial escort to his next class_. He shrugged at Percy, and distracted him from the issue. "Wanted to ask you about lexus troufus. What’s it used for?" he asked

"Lexus Troufus?" Percy said in surprise. And then he was off on a detailed explanation of what the plant was used for, where and how to harvest it, and what the name meant. Oliver half listened as they walked towards class, thoughts in turmoil.

He's right about one thing: I can't spend all my time running around protecting him. I've got Quidditch, not to mention two classes he's not in with me, and if I keep hanging around him this much, people are going to KNOW something's going on! On the other hand, he's so worried about keeping people from finding out about this that he's not standing up to Flint at all...just trying to avoid him.

Tim was in their usual seat at the back of the room when Oliver entered the classroom. Percy headed up to the front. All the front seats were taken, so Oliver sat with Tim, who gave him a strange look.  _Probably wondering what I was talking to Percy about. I don't see the big deal, I mean, we all talk to Percy. Mostly about schoolwork, but that's all he WILL talk about._  Oliver slumped into his seat, scowling.

Flint entered a couple minutes later, and they exchanged looks that promised highly painful retribution, before he sauntered over to the corner seats with his group of friends.

"What's up with you and Flint?" Tim asked.

Oliver just shook his head. "He's just up to his usual tricks."  _And some lovely new ones. Although apparently not as new as I'd like to think._

Tim looked at him warningly. "Just remember that the last time you and Flint had an 'incident', you wound up with three weeks of detention, Oliver."

This class went fairly quickly, and Oliver actually took notes, since Flint was too far away from Percy to present a problem. Lunch followed, and Percy disappeared, but Oliver kept an eye on Flint and his friends in the hall. That afternoon he didn't have any classes with Percy, so he couldn't know what did or did not happen.

He surprised himself, though, by worrying about it the whole afternoon.  _What’s the matter with you, you fool?! Sure, Percy’s no match for Flint physically, but he’s much stronger magically, and has probably three times the IQ. When he’s thinking straight that is. How can this have been going on for two years and none of us noticed?_

~~

That evening, Percy allowed Oliver to corner him in the library. And Oliver had to admit it was only because Percy let him.

_Apparently, avoiding Flint has allowed him to develop great talent for avoiding people in general. I'm surprised he's here rather than in the Gryffindor common room; Flint can't get near him at all there! But, I guess that's a third year Ravenclaw he's helping there, and I think the two first years who just left were Hufflepuff. He takes his responsibilities as Head Boy as seriously as I do the Quidditch team. Never really thought about what it was the Head Boy does around here._

As the girl finally got up from the table and left, thanking Percy, Oliver sat down at the table with him. He'd picked his seat carefully. Sitting at the adjacent side of the table, he was close enough that they could converse without being heard, but was still able to watch Percy carefully without attracting attention.  _Now if I can just intimidate anyone else from asking him for homework help for a few minutes, I can find out where we stand._

"Hullo, Percy," he said.

"Hello, Oliver, " came Percy's tired reply.

_Maybe I better work up to it, rather than jumping right in..._  "I don't know how you find time to do your own work, spending so much time helping other people."

Percy looked startled. Not what he'd expected, obviously. "It doesn't take much time to do my work. I have lots of spare time to help." A flash of emotion showed in his blue eyes, but it was there and gone too quickly for Oliver to recognize.

_Err... okay, that sort of killed THAT line of conversation. Better just ask him, however embarrassing this is likely to be._  Oliver caught up Percy's discarded quill, giving himself something to fiddle with while he talked. "Percy, did you have any problems with Flint this afternoon?"

Percy looked uncomfortable and opened his mouth to say something. Nothing came out. He gave a small smile and tried again. "No."

_And that's a 'yes, I did, thank you for reminding me, and no, I'm not going to tell you.', if ever I saw one._  "Percy, you wouldn't be lying to me, would you?" he asked, leaning slightly closer.

Percy shot him a sideways look, and then visibly brightened as if he'd thought of something. "No," he said firmly, "I had no problem with him this afternoon."

_I'm asking the wrong question._  "So he didn't do anything that I would consider a problem, like the notes, or saying anything to you, or -err - invading your personal space?" Oliver squirmed a bit at the end of the sentence, but it was nothing to the colour Percy had now turned.  _Got him._

"Err...."

"Percy..."

With a loud sigh, Percy admitted, "He was hanging around after final class of the day making comments. He gave up when he saw Snape heading our way. He always heads to the staffroom after his classes on Monday. They have a meeting."

"What kind of insults?"

Percy swallowed and looked away. "I'd rather not get into that. The point is, I took care of the situation myself. He'll give up altogether soon I imagine."

Oliver stared at him in complete disbelief, leaning back in his chair, but remembering to keep his voice down. "He'll give up? This is the second year of this Percy!"

"I told you, it was never this bad before! He's just got it into his head that it was my dating Penny that kept me from ... having a relationship with him. Once he realizes that it has nothing to do with that, he should return to just insulting me and pushing me around," Percy hissed, keeping his voice down but clearly reaching a breaking point.

Oliver fought down his own temper, realizing that Percy was scared. As far as he knew, another novelty for Percy.  _If I can just find some way for him to see the logic of the situation, rather than this story he's telling himself...._  "Percy, calm down a minute and think this through. You're the smartest person in this school, you must know that doesn't make any sense. If it was one of your brothers in your place, you'd be telling them to go straight to Dumbledore."

Percy glared at him silently.

"If Flint's held on... and in fact, gotten worse, since 5th year, he's not going to back off until something makes him. Best way to do that is to go to the Professors," he continued. Percy shook his head. "Then you're going to use something more than words to fight back. You're a much stronger wizard than he is."

"I'm the strongest of any of the students currently here," Percy corrected, sitting straighter in his chair. "But use of the kind of magic you're talking about is going to bring one of the Professors down on us, which brings me right back to where I was with the first option. Not to mention setting a bad example for the younger students of using magic for force."

Oliver realized he was holding the quill so tightly that it was about to break, and carefully set it back down on the table by Percy's scrolls. "I don't understand. Setting a bad example by DEFENDING yourself? What's so terrible about the Professors knowing? They're not going to blame you for it. You were pretty clear with him earlier in the week on your stand, I'd say. No one's going to think less of you because he's obsessed with you."  _Why can't he just see the obvious here? He usually handles simple logic quite well._

Percy was looking at him with an expression of abject misery on his face, and when he spoke, he sounded nothing like his usual calm, collected self. "I obviously MUST be doing something to encourage him, mustn't I," he said, biting off the words like they were poison. "I don't know what it is, but he should have given up a long time ago otherwise. They'll think less of me because this IS my fault. Bill or Charlie would never have gotten into a situation like this; they'd have known what to say to make him leave them alone in the first place. In fact, he'd never even dare to suggest it to one of them. It has to be something about me, doesn't it." He grabbed his books off the table, and stalked out of the library.

_He's not embarrassed. He honestly thinks this is his fault._  Oliver sat there for a long time, head in hands. He seemed to be finding himself doing that a lot lately. He tried to ignore the glares of several students who’d evidently been waiting for Percy’s help.   
  
~~

The rest of the week went much the same as the first day. Oliver attempted to keep a close eye on Percy, and discovered that Percy had developed a routine of vanishing the instant classes were over, or managing to get the Professors to walk him to his next class, without them realizing it. Oliver didn’t manage to get Percy alone to talk to him about what he’d said, although he tried several times. In about half the classes, he blocked Flint from sitting near Percy by dragging Tim into the seats first. After a couple more attempts, Tim didn’t ask questions, evidently having decided Oliver’s temper was bad enough that week.

And Oliver's temper was definitely bad. There was nothing he hated more than bullies. In fact, that was how he had first met Tim, on the train to Hogwarts. Seeing a small boy surrounded by a group of older students, who were mocking his accent and generally alarming him, Oliver had charged in to his defense.

And despite his best efforts, with Percy working against him, he couldn't protect him from Flint entirely. He caught Flint passing Percy notes several times, but Percy immediately burned them with a discreet spell.

I want to know what's in those notes. How am I supposed to know what’s going on if he won’t tell me? I really should go to one of the teachers. But he really thinks that there is something wrong with him that attracts Flint. I mean, obviously Flint finds him attractive... Percy's a good-looking bloke, but that's no excuse for Flint's behaviour.

~~

Saturday morning Oliver was a lot calmer. He was supposed to be heading to Hogsmeade, with the rest of his friends. He noticed Percy settling down at his desk with some books, as the rest of them gathered their things to leave. He walked over and stood behind him till Percy looked up. He looked remarkably uncertain today, as though he thought Oliver was going to attack him for his supposed ‘failure’ to drive off Flint.  _Like there's anything more he could have said, than that he was NOT interested. Somebody should have noticed - I should have noticed. I just accepted the fact that he was reserved, and never asked any questions._

"Percy, why don't you come with us? You haven't been at Hogsmeade yet all year. Time enough for studying later..." Oliver said, oddly gentle.

Percy looked vaguely stunned. "I- oh- that is, I have work -"

Oliver leaned closer so the other boys wouldn't hear "C'mon Percy, please?"

Percy blushed, looking awkward. "Really, you don't want me along, I'd just be in the way. I'm fine here, you don't have to worry about protecting me or anything, Flint's already left for Hogsmeade -"

"I'm not asking you for that Percy, I'm asking you because you never come with us. And we HAVE asked, in the past. So come with us this time, it'll be fun, you'll see..."  _C'mon Percy, just come with us. I don't know why it matters to me this much, but it does. Enough sitting up here all alone..._

Percy gave a little shrug, "Okay, I guess, if you're sure everyone won't mind." He looked like he already regretted it.

Oliver clapped him on the shoulder and stepped away. "We'll meet you in the common room in a few minutes then, okay? I've got to talk to Fred for a minute before we go."

Tim was staring at him as they walked down the stairs. "Percy actually AGREED to come to Hogsmeade with us?"

"Yeah, why shouldn't he? You were the one who kept saying we should ask him, a couple years back."

"And he always said no! What did you say to him to convince him to come?"

"I guess he's bored; I don't know!" Oliver was becoming annoyed. "Last year he went with Penny and some of the other Prefects all the time, he doesn't seem to be hanging around with them much this year."

Tim just nodded, looking oddly thoughtful.

Aggravated, Oliver strode off to the table by the door, where the Weasley twins sat plotting some trouble or other.

~~

The trip started out rather uncomfortably. Percy was clearly uneasy, and everyone else searching their minds for something to say to the boy.

"SO- Umm… Percy, how are you?" Tim asked, shrugging at Oliver when he gave him a look of disbelief.

"Quite well, thank you," replied Percy, at his most stilted.

All right, I think I like him better when he’s rambling on about classwork. If he doesn’t calm down this is going to be as much fun as a trip to Filch's office.

"How are you enjoying classes so far this year?" Percy asked Tim, after a painfully long pause.

Tim gamely launched into an account of his classes, which were the same as Oliver’s anyway… in other words; Percy was in most of them. Trying to make the other boy feel welcome, Tim began pulling out all his funny stories about being Muggle-born and coming to Hogwarts. The other three boys had heard them all before to the point of boredom, but Percy seemed amused. After Tim’s description of his first meeting with Moaning Myrtle, Percy even smiled. It was a surprisingly shy smile, Oliver noted.

Thank god for Tim. He can talk to anybody about anything… at length. I always knew Percy wasn’t good with people, I just didn’t realize how much of it had to do with just plain being shy.

After that, the day went fairly quickly. Percy didn’t have a lot to say, which was disconcerting, but he listened attentively to everyone’s stories, and relaxed enough to answer any questions he was directly asked with his usual torrent of knowledge.

At dinner, Oliver was highly amused by the stunned looks on Davin and Gareth’s faces when Davin’s casually voiced musing about how butterbeer was made brought on a detailed list of ingredients and an overview of the manufacturing process. He found himself, as always, vaguely impressed with the sheer volume of information Percy had in his head.

Deciding to step in and save them, he mused aloud, "You know, I can’t help but wonder if Ireland made the best decision in trading Powell for Lindross…"

"Lindross is one of the best players in the league!" Gareth leapt in.

"Yeah, but Powell has more experience, and a better record," Davin replied. The two of them were generally found on the opposite sides of just about any disagreement. Long ago, Oliver had been concerned that they genuinely didn’t like each other, but he’d swiftly realized they just liked fighting.

"True. But I suppose Lindross DOES have the advantage of being younger and more flexible," Oliver threw into the mix.

"Maybe not right now, with the injury he got over the training season."

_Did Percy Weasley just tell me something about a Quidditch player that I don’t know?_  "He was injured?"

"Yes, my brother Bill was at the match where it happened..." and Percy launched into an account that was just as detailed as the explanation of the butterbeer. But this time Oliver was interested. He asked a couple more questions about the manoeuvre Lindross had been trying out, moving closer to hear Percy’s replies. Percy, always encouraged by an attentive audience, grew more animated.

Damn, I need to see at least a diagram to properly visualize that. I wouldn’t be surprised if Harry could pull that one off, and something like that could be the difference between winning and losing. It's my final year here and Gryffindor is going to get the cup. I need that win.

A polite cough brought his attention to the fact that everyone but he and Percy were on their feet and looking at him in some amusement.

"You two planning on staying here all night?" Tim didn’t even bother to hide his laughter. Percy blinked as though surprised, and then swiftly stood and put his cloak on as well, blushing deeply.

Oliver gave the whole lot of them a mock glare. "No, seriously. Think about it. If this is a new thing, the Slytherins wouldn’t be expecting it. Percy, ask your brother for more details, I can’t visualize it…"

Wouldn’t have thought Percy’d know so much about Quidditch. But then I suppose all the Weasleys are mad about it. Come to think of it, I think I recall Fred or George saying something about playing Quidditch with his brothers all summer…that would include Percy I guess.

Oliver went to bed that night feeling strangely content, having pestered Percy into owling his brother immediately. Even if he hadn’t come up with a way to discuss Percy’s belief that he was somehow encouraging Flint, it had been a good day. Percy had promised to write his brother Bill about the incident with Lindross, and everyone had enjoyed themselves.  _Should have pressured him into going with us before, he’s a lot more fun then he likes to let on. And everybody liked him well enough, once they got over his unusual silence… if I can just get him to hang out with us more often, that’ll be that much less often for Flint to get at him._

~~

The next night Oliver was woken by faint mumbling and the sound of Percy twisting restlessly on his bed. He recognized the signs of a nightmare right away. Not an unusual event by any means in their room. With the exception of Tim, who hadn't been in England during the war, they had plenty of memories to wake them in terror, maybe more so than older people, since they'd been too young to understand much during The War. Even Muggle-born Tim had nightmares, although his seemed to involve calling out for his sister and a doctor a lot, and something about dinosaurs. Oliver could never understand why Tim kept researching Dinosaurs so much when the creatures clearly gave him nightmares.

The rule for nightmares was unspoken, but rigidly adhered to: If the person didn't seem able to wake up, you woke them up. And then you all pretended it never happened the next morning.

"Get OFF me -" Percy mumbled, one arm reaching to push something away. "Marcus, DON'T. I ... leave me alone, I don't want this."

Oliver was left cold as he realized this wasn't one of Percy's normal nightmares. Of course, he hadn't listened to the mumbling in years... First and second years, all Percy's nightmares were about fire.

Obviously, they aren't any more. Ten points from Gryffindor for my willful blindness.

He slipped out from under the covers, glancing over to see Tim doing the same. Tim gestured towards Percy and got back into bed. Oliver was closer, and it wouldn't take two of them to wake him.

"Percy," he whispered.

Percy continued to thrash, tears leaking down his face, breath becoming short. Oliver tentatively touched his shoulder, and Percy came up swinging. He winced as one of the reckless punches caught him on the shoulder and moved back out of reach  _Clearly no one ever taught him how to punch. If he had any control here, he could cause some damage...he's got more power behind them than you'd expect._

He moved back in and grabbed Percy's wrists, shaking him slightly. "Percy, you're dreaming, wake up!"

Percy broke his grip, still looking terrified, before starting to look around, blinking. Oliver couldn't see the blush in the moonlight, but he knew when it arrived, and knew that by the unspoken code he should go back to bed now, and not embarrass Percy further.

"All right, Percy?"  _Here I go again, pushing my way into things he won't want to talk about._

"I'm fine, Oliver. Thanks for waking me," Percy said, voice hoarse.

Lowering his voice still further, knowing that at least Tim was awake, Oliver said, "You were dreaming about Flint. He was hurting you. Percy, tell me this wasn't a nightmare about something that happened?"

"Back OFF, Oliver!" Percy was angry now. Angrier than Oliver had ever seen him, and he moved away slightly out of instinct. "It wasn't about something that's happened, and it's not about anything that WILL happen, so will you just GET OFF MY CASE!"

With an audible snarl, he untangled himself from his blankets and stormed out of the room. From the utter silence coming from the other beds, Oliver knew they were all awake.

I should go back to bed, and leave him alone. I can apologize in the morning, and hopefully, he won't be as angry then. I shouldn't have asked, but if Flint has HURT him, Christ, I'll break my promise and go straight to Dumbledore himself.

Oliver glanced down and realized his hand was on the doorknob.  _Fine, I go after him, apologize, and make sure he's okay. Why can't he ever just do things the EASY way?_

It wasn't hard to find Percy. The lights were on in the Washroom, and he could hear Percy muttering before he even opened the door. Percy stood in front of the mirror, splashing water on his face. "Stupid bloody bastard," he snarled to himself. "Nosy, useless prat. Ruddy idiot who can't just mind. his. own. business.." Oliver relaxed against the wall by the door, listening wide-eyed to the stream of insults that were no doubt aimed at him. "Why did I ever tell him? I've gotten this far without involving anyone else. Stupid, stupid, freak."

I don't think that last was aimed at me. And that's almost worse.

"Percy?"

Percy whirled around and glared at Oliver. "Do you just never give up?"

"Well, no, I'm not known for it, really," Oliver said, surprised how mild his voice sounded.

Percy looked startled for a moment and then stalked up to Oliver. Oliver suddenly wished he wasn't leaning against a wall.

I may have gone too far this time.

"Do I look like a girl to you?"

Oliver stared at the face inches away from his own in befuddlement. "No?"

"No, that is because I am NOT a girl, Oliver, and I'd appreciate it if you'd quit treating me like some delicate little thing that can't take care of himself! I'm the HEAD BOY, Oliver!" Percy was almost yelling, and Oliver was really hoping this didn't wake anyone up.

"I've never thought you were a girl, Percy, or that you couldn't take care of yourself."

"Then why are you acting this way? I was doing just fine before you decided to come charging in and save me! I don't even know why I told you. I've lied my way out of it before."

"Maybe you wanted someone to know?"

"That is the LAST thing I want. I don't want your pity! I'm perfectly capable of defending myself; I'm not some first year! I don't NEED this, on top of everything else, I -"

"Percy, did it ever occur to you that maybe you realized you've gotten trapped in a corner and might, just once in your stubborn life, actually need some help? And that it might not be such a horrible, painful thing to have someone help you? Might even be nice to NOT have to handle everything all on your own?" Oliver's temper was flaring, now, as he pushed away from the wall and began pacing. "Needing help doesn't mean you're not competent, or that you're a helpless kid, or a girl, for chrissakes Percy! A girl? Have you looked at yourself? No one is ever going to confuse you with a girl!" He gestured at Percy's decidedly male form in annoyance, avoiding looking at Percy's startled eyes. "Look in the mirror, for pity's sakes. You're as tall as I am, and while you may be a bit skinny, you're certainly not feminine looking. The adam's apple alone, Percy! You're attractive enough for a boy, but you'd make an UGLY girl.  Not to mention that any girl would end you if you're suggesting girls can't defend themselves!"

Oliver's rant was interrupted by a brief burst of laughter from Percy, before he sank down to the floor, head on his knees. Oliver quickly ran through what he'd said, looking for what he might have said that would make Percy cry.

"Are you crying?"  _Didn't mean to ask that, shouldn't have asked that, you insensitive prat. Of course he's -_

Percy snorted. "Or course I'm not crying, you git."

"You're not?"

"No."

There was a long pause while Oliver tried to think of what to say next, then Percy finally raised his head and muttered, "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? For what? I'm the one that went and pushed you to talk about your nightmare. That's why I followed you. To say I'm sorry."

"Forget about it," Percy said. "I'm sorry I took this out on you."

"I'll live."

"Well, I shouldn't have..."

"Tell you what, you can make it up to me by at least trying to let me help with the Flint situation? I'm not expecting miracles... I know you hate the idea of needing help. Believe me, you've made it very clear. But you could at least try?"

Percy grimaced, mouth thinning. "I'll try. It's not that I don't appreciate that you want to help, Oliver, it's just -"

"I'll try not to act so much like you can't take care of yourself, all right?"

"All right."

"And Percy?"

He could visibly see Percy's patience wearing thin, and changed what he was going to say. "Give the others a chance? Aside from the fact that hanging out with us leaves you less available to Flint, we've been TRYING to be your friends for YEARS."

Percy looked disconcerted. "I did have fun today," he admitted, with a wry smile.

"So did I," Oliver said, smiling. "That's why I'm asking."

 

~~

Oliver’s good mood lasted precisely until he got to his first class of Monday morning. Flint and Christian were already in their usual spots, directly behind Percy’s. He watched, frustrated, as Percy walked stiffly to the front of the room and sat down. He dragged Tim to the nearest seat, not even noticing that Davin and Gareth moved over with him.

He was so busy grumbling to himself and watching for Flint to try anything that he didn’t hear a word of the lecture until Tim abruptly pressed his quill into his hand and said "For pity’s sake Oliver, try to at least LOOK like you’re taking notes. Flitwick is the person at the front, if you noticed." At Oliver’s blank look, he added, with significance "You know, the teacher?" Shaking his head he returned to his own notes.

Oliver glanced back over at Percy in time to see a small spark as he burned another note, judging by the disappointed and angry expression on Flint’s face. Sighing to himself, he admitted there was nothing he could do about the notes, at least today.

_I can, however, keep Flint away between this class and next._ As class ended, Percy moved as if to go up to Professor Flitwick, but Oliver cut him off. "Unless you actually WANT to talk to the professor, just come with us to next class," he said quietly.

Percy nodded, almost visibly reminding himself of his promise, and Oliver guided him back to the others with a hand on his shoulder.  _And just for the record, you stiff-necked moron, we are going to discuss your insistence on destroying the notes he gives you. Those are EVIDENCE, and should be kept for when I convince you to go to Dumbledore._

As they all trooped out the door to next class, Oliver noticed Davin and Gareth exchanging odd looks.  _Wonder what’s going on with them? Who knows… probably something to do with that sixth-year girl they both like._

Tim started chatting on about dragons and their similarities and possible relationship to dinosaurs, which was one of his pet theories. But Percy hadn’t heard it and listened intently, probably storing it all away for future research. _For once someone’s found a subject he doesn’t know much about,_ thought Oliver, feeling in better spirits again. Gareth jumped into the conversation to torment Tim by disagreeing with all his points. Tim good-naturedly ignored him, being used to it.

Once in class they split up, Percy going to his usual front-row seat with a Ravenclaw boy whose name Oliver could never remember. Flint would never try anything in Snape’s class… Snape might favour Slytherin, but he didn’t like anyone disrupting his class, for any reason. All in all, it left Oliver feeling quite kindly towards Snape, which he hadn’t since first hearing of the man’s obsession with picking on Harry. Their assignment for the day was quite tricky, and Percy and his partner were the only ones who made it successfully the first try. Oliver and Tim still hadn’t gotten theirs working by the end of the class, to Davin and Gareth’s increasing amusement.

"What are we doing wrong then, if you’re so bloody smart?" Oliver asked Davin, getting exasperated.

"Too much ground nightshade," came the prompt reply.

"Well, why didn’t you just TELL us that in the first place?" complained Tim.

Oliver looked up to see Percy walking out of the class. "Just a second," he told the others, and quickly followed Percy out.

"Percy!"

Percy turned and walked back to Oliver hesitantly. "If you want to wait, we’re headed to lunch after this," Oliver said.

Percy shook his head. "I promised Neville some help with his Potions essay today at lunch," he said. "Thanks for asking, though." He ducked his head, an uncertain smile on his face.

Oliver smiled back at him in amusement, then sobered. "Percy, you didn’t tell me when I tried to ask, before. Is Flint in both your classes this afternoon?"

Percy looked at the floor, face going expressionless. "I only have the one class this afternoon. Arithmancy. After lunch I have a meeting with Professor Dumbledore. I’m quite near Gryffindor Tower from last class. Really, you don’t have to worry so much, I can handle this."

"Tell you what, keep talking to Professor Vector after class for as long as you can and I’ll see if I can get over there."

"Oliver, I don’t need an escort everywhere I go!" Percy said, flushed with embarrassment and a mutinous expression growing on his face.

"I need to talk to you Percy, and since you’re busy at lunch, after classes is as good a time as any, isn’t it?" Oliver asked reasonably.

"Very well. Yes, you’re right." Percy sighed. "I’ll be in Arithmancy with Professor Vector. That’s -"

"Over in the west wing, yeah, I know. I’ll see you there."

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Wood. I would have assumed that someone incapable of grasping a simple potion would want to spend more time in class, rather than less!" Snape stuck his head out of the classroom to snap at Oliver. "I expect your potion to be completed within the next five minutes."

"Yes, Professor" Oliver sighed, as Percy spun about and headed rapidly down the hall.  _I just hope he actually waits for me._

Tim looked up at him as Oliver sat down in his seat again. "Percy not coming to lunch?" he asked.

"No, he had to tutor Neville." Oliver replied, still distracted by thoughts of how to get Percy to hand over one of those damn notes to him.

Tim grinned at him. "Oh well, maybe you can convince him to sit with us as dinner, rather than with the Perfects. I did want to hear his views on the dinosaurs."

Oliver snorted in amusement. "Tim, you do realize you’re obsessed with those bloody things, don’t you?"

"Laugh all you want, but now that you’ve got Percy talking to us, I finally have someone capable of discussing the issue, unlike you uneducated lot."

"Gentlemen! I want that potion finished in four minutes!" snapped Snape and the two of them hurriedly went back to measuring out the ingredients.

~~

Quidditch practice. I have Quidditch practice in twenty minutes. Have to get Percy, convince him to hand over the next note Flint sends, and get to Quidditch practice. We need practice!

Oliver glanced into the classroom and saw Percy talking with the Professor. He waved to get his attention, and waited as Percy finagled his way out of the conversation and left the room.

Percy looked at him calmly, and asked, "What did you want to talk about?"

Oliver was about to answer when he noticed Flint and several other Slytherin students lounging further down the hall. Flint was looking at him with murder in his eyes. He and Oliver had never gotten along, but clearly the current blinding hatred was mutual.  _Serves him right for harassing Percy. Hmm... Maybe he’ll pick a fight. That could be entertaining. He hasn't tried to pick a fight with me since fourth year, when I broke his wand and went after him with fists._ Oliver put his hand on Percy’s shoulder and gave him a slight push in the other direction. "Well, what am I always pestering you about these days?" He asked, aware of the resigned tone in his own voice.

"The Quidditch manoeuvre Bill saw?" Percy asked, with a blandly innocent expression on his face.

Oliver did a double take. "The Quidditch-? No. Although have you heard from your brother about that yet?"

"No, not yet," Percy answered, struggling to hide his smile. "I owled him about it, but sometimes it takes a while for messages to reach him. He moves around a lot. He's a curse-breaker for Gringott's, you know."

"You’re trying to distract me and it won’t work…" Oliver said as they reached the portrait guarding the door. "Flibbertigibbet" he said, as distinctly as possible, and the lady let them in.

"Already has," announced Percy, with a smirk. "Don’t you have Quidditch practice now?"

Oliver sighed and grabbed Percy by the arm as he started to walk away, looking quite pleased with himself. Standing close enough that no one could overhear them he said "C’mon Percy, I told you the only way I was going to let you get away with not going to the Professors was if you let me know EVERYTHING that’s going on. And I believe the notes were mentioned specifically. I saw you burn another one today in class. You need at least a couple of them for evidence, and if I’m going to keep you out of trouble, I need to know what’s in them."

Percy was looking at the floor again, red-faced and miserable, and Oliver felt horribly guilty. "You don’t need to read one of those notes, Oliver! I can sum them up in a single sentence. Flint wants to … be in a sexual relationship with me, all right?!" Percy was keeping his voice low out of habit, but he sounded bitter as he ground out the words.

"Percy, look at me," Oliver said, pleading. Slowly Percy raised his head enough to make eye contact. "Percy, you’ve got to get over this idea that you are responsible for Flint’s actions. And I need to know what exactly is in those notes. Is he threatening you? Is he sending you erotic love poetry? What?"

Percy sighed and slumped against the wall, closing his eyes. "What does it matter? It’s just… filth, okay? Just forget about it. I appreciate your help, I really do, but I would never let anyone read those things. All they're fit for is burning."

Oliver sighed and leaned against the wall beside him. This was not going well. "Percy - "

A loud clattering caused him to look up, and he saw the Weasley twins stumbling down the stairs in a cheerfully desperate rush.

"Hey, Oliver! What’re you doing here?" Asked Fred Weasley, abruptly stopping his headlong run.

"We’re late for practice, well, we thought we were, but you’re here. Is practice cancelled?" added George.

"Canceled?" said Oliver in disbelief, "Of course not! When have I ever cancelled a practice?" He glanced at the clock.  _I’m late for my own practice session. Some Quidditch captain I turned out to be._ He turned to say something to Percy, but Percy was already across the room entering the boys’ dormitory.

With a sigh, Oliver turned back to the twins, who were staring at him curiously. "Come on, we’d better get going, or the rest of the team will take off," he grumbled, heading back out of the room.  _How does he DO that? Every time I turn around he vanishes. And not only did I not convince him to let me see one of those letters, I think I made him feel worse. Wonderful way to help someone Oliver! He was in a perfectly good mood till I started in on those notes._

~~

It was Thursday, and Oliver’s week had not gotten any better. He was sitting in class, half-watching Percy as he answered the teacher’s question, in detail. When he’d come back to his room after Quidditch practice, soaked from the rain that had started half an hour into the practice, he’d been relieved to see Percy and Tim perched on Tim’s bed, leaning over a game of Wizard chess. Percy had looked up with a hesitant smile, almost as if he’d been afraid Oliver would be angry. Oliver had been so relieved the other boy was even speaking to him that he’d just stood there smiling back for a moment. But yesterday he’d seen Percy burn another letter.

Today, he had a plan. He’d dragged Tim up to the very front of the room, to the row of desks right beside Percy’s. Tim seemed to have given up protesting Oliver’s erratic seating plan, and Gareth and Davin simply shrugged and moved up closer to them, complaining mildly that they were beginning to feel like they were being avoided. Oliver didn’t think they were really offended, at least he hoped not. But he was waiting for his opportunity. All he needed was for Flint to pass Percy a note. Which, in keeping with Murphy’s Law, he hadn’t done all day.

The Professor had gone on with the lecture while Oliver was lost in thought. He glanced over at Percy and Flint again. Flint was casually flicking a piece of paper over Percy’s shoulder. Percy moved it under his scroll, and glanced at the teacher. Oliver had observed that he waited for the Professor to be looking elsewhere before he torched the notes. He tensed, waiting. The moment Professor Binns turned to answer a question from a girl in the far corner, he murmured "Accio note!"

Percy stared at him in panic as the piece of paper shot across the space between their desks. Oliver caught it and tucked it under his textbook. Percy looked at him with a pleading expression, until Binns turned back to the class to resume his droning lecture. Then he twisted back around and stared down at his desk, very pale.

Oliver felt a twinge of guilt, but not enough to keep him from reading the note. His eyes widened as he started reading. Percy was certainly right about it being fit only to burn. Flint made it very clear what he wanted from Percy. It was liberally mixed with insults and threats, particularly about the repercussions if Percy didn’t stop hanging around with Oliver and his friends. Oliver was shaking with rage by the time he got to the end of it. He could more than see where having someone writing that sort of thing about you would give you nightmares.

He raised blazing eyes to look at Flint, who was gazing at the back of Percy’s head and doodling absently on his scroll, unaware that his little note had gone further than its intended recipient.

Calm down, Oliver. Just breathe slowly. If you attack him in class you could very well get expelled. You can't explain why, not without showing the professor the note. And Percy's name is in it, and his description - his detailed description - so I couldn’t even say Flint gave it to me. Class is over in fifteen minutes, just wait the fifteen minutes, and then get that bastard alone somewhere.

Oliver focused very hard on watching the clock until it finally got to the hour. Professor Binns dismissed the class and he stood, watching as Flint filed out of class with the rest. Oliver felt someone approach and looked down to see Percy looking at him, almost cringing. He looked, for the first time in the seven years Oliver had known him, truly, deeply, ashamed. That was almost worse than the note.

"Stay here a minute, you two, I’ll be right back," Oliver said, amazed at how calm his voice sounded. Tim clearly knew something was up, but Oliver didn’t bother to explain as he strode out of the room.

He marched down the hall. There. Standing with Christian and Rand, who were laughing at something he’d said.  _Forget about getting him alone._ Oliver walked up to him without hesitation and punched him in the stomach, full force. Flint doubled over and clutched his stomach, with a yell of protest. Oliver leaned in very close, and whispered in his ear "If you come within ten feet of Percy Weasley again, you will deal with ME. Are you understanding me?"

Flint nodded, glaring and trying to stand up. Rand and Christian looked like they were going to attack Oliver, but clearly whatever they saw in his face made them reconsider.

He walked back to the classroom, absently noting the other students scattering to get out of his way. Davin and Gareth fell into step with him on either side. He could feel them looking at him anxiously. Neither one of them asked him what was going on, despite the fact that they’d obviously seen what happened.

Of course, I can’t remember ever having been this angry. Who knows what the expression on my face looks like.

They met up with Tim and Percy by the door of the classroom. They were looking at him with equal worry.

"Do I want to know what you just did?" asked Tim.

"Not in the least," replied Oliver mildly.

"Don’t suppose there’s anything you want to tell us," Tim tried again, sounding hopeful.

"Nope," said Oliver affably. He clapped Percy on the shoulder reassuringly, and kept walking as they all trailed after. "Anybody know what’s for lunch today?" They continued on their way, Oliver intensely proud of having kept his voice level. He was still fighting the urge to turn around and go beat on Flint some more.  _Maybe I could make it a hobby. I’m sure it would be very soothing. Tim’s always saying I should get a hobby…_


	3. Plots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the plot thickens, and Oliver finds himself greatly tried.

Oliver strode up and down in front of the Quidditch team, resolutely ignoring the chill that permeated the changing rooms.

"This is our last chance - MY last chance - to win the Quidditch cup, " Oliver told them. "I'll be leaving at the end of this year. I'll never get another shot at it." He stared at them, willing them to fully understand the importance of this. He needed this win. Not just to help get a place on a professional Quidditch team, next year, but for Gryffindor.

"Gryffindor hasn't won for seven years now. Okay, so we've had the worst luck in the world - injuries - then the tournament getting called off last year..." He swallowed, the memory still hurting. "But we also know we've got the BEST - RUDDY -TEAM- IN -THE - SCHOOL," he said, punching a fist into his other hand. He would MAKE them believe they could win this year, if it was the last thing he did.

"We've got three SUPERB Chasers." He gestured to the girls. "We've got two UNBEATABLE Beaters."

Fred and George pretended to blush, replying in unison, "Stop it, Oliver, you're embarrassing us."

Oliver glared at them and turned to Harry. "And we've got a Seeker who has NEVER FAILED TO WIN US A MATCH!" He watched Harry straighten up with pride. "And me," he added.

"We think you're very good, too, Oliver," said George.

"Cracking Keeper," said Fred.

Oliver ignored the obvious and resumed pacing. "The point is, the Quidditch cup should have had our name on it these last two years. Ever since Harry joined the team, I've thought the thing was in the bag. But we haven't got it, and this year's the last chance we'll get to finally see our name on the thing..."

He put as much dejection into his voice as he could. Harry and the girls instantly looked determined, and even the twins looked rather sympathetic, as they all chimed in with assurances that they'd win this year for certain. Oliver hid most of his smile, knowing he'd got them exactly where he needed them.

"All right then, we'll be doing extra practices this year!" Not even the twins objected. "We'll be working Monday and Wednesday evenings, and Sunday afternoons, for now. We'll see if we need more practice after our first match. We should be up against Slytherin. We need to start out the season by beating them thoroughly." They looked taken aback by the glare he was subjecting them to, probably wondering why he seemed even more virulent about Slytherin than last year. But that note, and Percy's nightmare, had really disturbed him. More than he wanted Percy to realize, even.

"One more thing before you go," Oliver said. "I'm moving Monday practices back by half an hour."

He wasn't expecting the burst of laughter from the girls, or the evil smile that appeared on the twins' faces.

"Why is it, Oliver, that you've been late for the last four Monday practices anyway?" George said innocently.

"Yeah, do you have some sort of...pressing engagement after class on Mondays?" Fred didn't manage to sound as innocent as his brother. In fact, if Oliver didn't know better, he'd say the statement was innuendo-laden.

"What?" Oliver blustered, a little alarmed by the unexpected reaction. "Just some school stuff. I've been stopping by Professor Vector's." Looking at their grinning faces, he added, "About Arithmancy."

"About Arithmancy," said Fred, nodding wisely at his brother.

"Of course," said George.

"Oooh! Ooh! Oliver!" Angelina was waving her hand in the air like she was channelling one of the Ravenclaws in an Advanced Class.

"What?"

"Adrian Pauley wants to walk me back to Gryffindor Tower on Wednesdays after class. Could we move Wednesday's practice back as well?"

"No," he said firmly. "We cannot move practice so your boyfriend can walk you Gryffindor Tower. Have him walk you to Quidditch practice." He barely resisted the temptation to roll his eyes. Angelina was the best of the Chasers, but she spent too much time with the Weasley twins. "That's everything, so everyone back to the Common Room and get lots of rest. We've got a busy season ahead of us!"

He left, just catching Angelina saying with amusement, "I really think we've got a serious case of double standards happening -" Puzzled, he contemplated going back and asking them what was going on, but decided it was better to leave them be. As long as they played well, their personal lives were none of his business.

~~

The Great Hall was decorated with hundreds of candle-filled pumpkins, a cloud of fluttering live bats, and many orange streamers floating lazily across the ceiling. The ghosts were flying around to provide entertainment as Oliver, Percy, and the others finished their meal. The House Elves went all out for Halloween, and between the five of them, they'd consumed a surprising amount of food.

The relaxed atmosphere had even resulted in a more relaxed Percy, Oliver thought, watching him discuss something hopelessly academic with Tim and a Ravenclaw boy, Ewan. Deprived of their favourite occupation of baiting their roommates, Gareth and Davin were constructing an elaborate device consisting of spoons, salt and pepper shakers, a marble, and sugar cubes. Davin smiled at Oliver, and then set off a chain reaction in the device that ended with a sugar cube bouncing off the side of Oliver's head.

Oliver chased him out of the room, heading back to Gryffindor Tower, trying to avoid running over any of the younger students already heading that way. When they arrived, however, they found the Fat Lady's picture had been totally destroyed. Oliver absently grabbed a small boy who was about to go running past him, and shoved him back behind him. The boy struggled until he saw the painting, then abruptly went still.

"Let me through, please," came Percy's voice, as he pushed his way through the shocked crowd. "What's the hold-up here? You can't all have forgotten the password -"

Relief swept through Oliver. Percy would take charge. This was not something he wanted to be responsible for. Percy finally made it to the front, and paled. Suddenly sharp-voiced, he snapped out an order at one of the students near him. "Get Professor Dumbledore. Quick."

Percy began trying to herd the curious students back further from the portrait, and Oliver and Davin moved to help. It was a difficult task when they all wanted a good look at the cause of the commotion. Then Dumbledore arrived, with some of the other Professors.

"We need to find the Fat Lady," said Dumbledore. "Professor McGonagall, please go to Mr. Filch at once and tell him to search every painting in the castle for her."

"You'll be lucky!" Peeves sang out, bobbing over the crowd, looking delighted by the trouble. Oliver wondered for the umpteenth time why Dumbledore allowed him to stay at the castle.

"What do you mean, Peeves?" Dumbledore asked, more politely than Oliver would have.

"Ashamed, Your Headship, sir. Doesn't want to be seen. She's a horrible mess. Saw her running through the landscape up on the fourth floor, sir, dodging between the trees. Crying something dreadful." His grinned manically.

"Did she say who did it?" Dumbledore asked.

"Oh, yes, Professorhead. Nasty temper he's got, that Sirius Black. He got very angry when she wouldn't let him in, you see."

They were all sent back to the Great Hall, where Percy took charge of herding in the other houses, as they arrived, and explaining the situation to their prefects.

"The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle," Professor Dumbledore said. "I'm afraid that, for your own safety, you will have to spend the night here. I want the Prefects to stand guard over the entrances to the Hall and I am leaving the Head Boy and Girl in charge. "

He waved his wand and the tables flew out of the way, and then the floor was covered with purple sleeping bags. "Sleep well," said Dumbledore, before walking over to Percy. Quietly enough that Oliver could barely hear him from a few feet away, Dumbledore said firmly to Percy, "Any disturbance should be reported to me immediately. Send word with one of the ghosts."

"Yes, sir," said Percy, lighting up at Dumbledore's expression of trust. As Dumbledore left, he threw himself into organizing the students, directing the prefects to get everyone to bed, shouting out orders. "Everyone into their sleeping bags! Come on now, no more talking! Lights out in ten minutes!"

Oliver grinned as Percy walked past him. "You love this, don't you."

Percy snickered quietly. "Ultimate authority over hundreds of people? Of course!" he said, and went to convince a sobbing first-year girl that he wouldn't let Sirius Black enter the Hall to get her. Much to Davin and Gareth's amusement, he was then unable to convince the little girl to let him go, as she became convinced that he was her one source of safety. He stood up, looked around, then picked up her sleeping bag and led her over to a young redheaded girl whom Oliver recognized after a moment as being his sister, Ginny. It only took him a few minutes to detach the child there and leave her to his sister to comfort. He glared irritably as he passed by the still snickering Gareth and Davin again on his way to sort out an argument between a Ravenclaw prefect and one of his charges.

Oliver slid his sleeping bag closer to the door. Entertaining as Percy's current plight was, the fact remained that if Sirius Black tried to get in, Percy would likely need their backup to keep everyone safe. Tim and the others followed his example, and he noticed Seventh Years all across the Hall setting themselves up similarly.

"The lights are going out now!" Percy shouted. "I want everyone in their sleeping bags and no more talking!"

A wave of his wand and the candles all went out at once, leaving the ghosts and the star-filled enchanted ceiling the only sources of light. He came over to stand by Oliver, not bothering to interfere with the whispering. It would have been a lost cause anyway, Oliver thought.

It was a long night. At three in the morning, Oliver was still awake, watching Percy pace back and forth across the nearest doorway, his expression grim. Other than occasional forays among the ranks of sleeping bags to scold anyone talking loudly enough to wake those around them, that had been his post for the last four hours.

After another of those side trips, Percy returned with a sleeping bag of his own. Oliver relaxed, realizing that the danger must have passed, and slid his sleeping bag a little further from the wall. "Percy."

Percy looked over at him, as he indicated the empty space. Realizing he wouldn't be blocking the door there, Percy dropped the bag next to Oliver and crawled into it. "You're still awake."

"Thought I'd better stay that way, just in case. Not that you couldn't have tied Sirius Black in knots by yourself, but really, Percy, only fair you share the glory," he teased in a whisper.

Percy snorted. "Well, Dumbledore says Black isn't in the castle anymore, so you can rest now."

"And so can you."

"As long as no one needs anything," Percy grumbled, with a yawn.

"Aw, you love being the one who can organize everybody and fix things."

Only the faint gleam of his teeth indicated Percy's smile, and Oliver settled further into his sleeping bag in hopes of getting some more sleep, listening to his friend's breathing.

He woke up to the sound of Davin's camera, and sat up to see that Percy's sister, another little girl, and one boy had somehow managed to wedge their sleeping bags around Percy's in the night. Percy snored peacefully onwards, happily unconscious of serving as a pillow to the small girl he'd deposited with his sister at the beginning of the night.

Oliver woke all four of them up laughing, and was punched in the arm by Tim for his trouble.

~~

The game was over. Oliver was sitting on a bench in the locker room, head in hands. He couldn't shake the vision of Harry Potter plummeting 50 feet to the ground. If Dumbledore hadn't been there....

Hearing a noise, he looked up to see Percy hovering in the doorway, an uncertain look on his face. Flint hasn't tried something again ALREADY, has he?

"Fred and George said you were trying to drown yourself," Percy remarked, as he crossed the room and sat down next to Oliver. Oliver tried to ignore the warm feeling that coursed through him as he realized Percy had come to check up on him. Trust Percy to come running to see if I'm okay... He's always been on the protective side with people he likes. Which means he really does like me, and isn’t just putting up with me so that I don’t go to the Professors.

Oliver smiled at Percy wryly. "The twins have an overactive imagination. I expect they think the reason for my misery is that we lost the game too."

"I don't know what they think," Percy said quietly. "I merely overheard them when I went to check on Harry. He IS okay you know."

Oliver sighed. "I know. I saw Dumbledore slow him down... but Percy, he could have been killed! And as long as the Dementors are around, there's no way I can let him play. Next time he might not be so lucky." Uncomfortable suddenly with the quiet blue eyes on him, he got up and began pacing. "So I have to go tell the poor kid, who was just nearly killed, that he can't play. He's the best seeker we've ever had! And he's the only one on the team who cares about Quidditch anywhere near the way I do. I've been trying to train him a bit to take over as captain, you know."

"I know. When I was helping him pick out his courses, he didn't seem to have any particular interests other than Quidditch. In the end, he just picked the same classes as Ron."

"See! That's what I mean! Everyone's always fussing about 'The Boy Who Lived', and nobody stops to consider what's going to happen to him if he manages to stick around long enough to be 'The Man Who Lived'. He's a good enough seeker to go professional after school. If he works hard enough, and I think he will. Taking him out of the game this year is going to be a black mark on his record when it comes time for him to get a chance at a team."

"The fact that he is who he is may counteract that," Percy said gently. "And hard though it is, I think you're making the right choice. Better that he's alive and unhappy than the alternative. I overheard Professor Dumbledore the other day, saying that the Dementors draw out your greatest fears and darkest experiences. Dumbledore thinks that Harry has some memories of the original attack by You-Know-Who, conscious or otherwise." Percy looked quite disturbed, and Oliver felt chilled at the mere thought.

"He was just a baby when it happened!"

"Dumbledore says a person subconsciously remembers everything that’s happened to them, no matter how young they were."

"No wonder Harry faints at the sight of them," Oliver said, unable to keep a bit of self-reproach out of his voice.

Percy immediately leapt on it. "That's not all that's bothering you, is it?" he asked.

Oliver looked at Percy and saw nothing but concern and sympathy on his face. Don't do it Oliver, you'll sound like a whining idiot.

"I saw the dementors arrive," he blurted. "And I knew Harry faints at the sight of them." He attempted to stop the flow of words, but failed. "I knew it, and I was too bloody terrified to even THINK of yelling out a warning to him. Some captain I make, huh." He slumped back on the bench, head in hands, refusing to look at Percy. This is the part where he either laughs at me, says something incredibly patronizing, or agrees that I'm a total coward. He felt a tentative touch on his shoulder and forced himself to meet the other boy's eyes. There was no sign of disdain in them, merely compassion.

"Funny, a lot of people have been saying the same thing about themselves. Ron is beating himself up pretty badly over it. Everybody overlooks the fact that this is what Dementors ARE, it's what they DO. That's why the ministry put them in charge of prisoners in Azkaban.... because almost no one can resist them enough to even think. Not without the proper charms. Dad says they are an abomination. He won't even go to Azkaban unless he absolutely has to."

"I'd agree with that," breathed Oliver. "The images, the things I saw.... it was - it was truly horrible." He shivered slightly. Death Eaters swarming the streets with the Dark Mark in the sky overhead. The time we thought my father had been killed, during the war. My mother, screaming, throwing hexes, yelling at me to run. Worse than a nightmare. Like being back there all over again.

Percy nodded, shivering himself. "I think I am going to make a concerted effort to never get within 20 feet of one of them again," he said, so primly that Oliver had to smile in spite of himself.

"It's a pact then. If one of us hears there's Dementors around, they warn the other, and we head for the hills." he said, amusement colouring his voice. It earned him one of Percy's rare, full-blown smiles. And Oliver found that he felt surprisingly better. Clearly Dumbledore saw this in Percy long before any of the rest of us. Guess it wasn't just his grades and penchant for rules that got him made the Head Boy.

~~

Oliver was surprised to realize that even Gareth and Davin now went out of their way to invite Percy with them, and involve him in their activities. Tim had gotten him caught up in the great Dinosaur/Dragon debate, and with Percy's analytical skills on his side now had a couple more items to support his theory. Oliver had forgotten that one of Percy's brothers worked with Dragons. Several times Oliver had come in from practice to find them playing chess. He was terribly pleased to see them all getting along, and not just because it meant Percy was less likely to get caught alone somewhere by Flint when he was elsewhere. Percy still seemed uncertain in these friendships though, and if invited to do something outside of Gryffindor Tower would usually excuse himself. Unless Oliver was going too, that is. Oliver felt obscurely pleased by that gesture of trust.

Flint, however, was very angry about this turn of events. He seemed to be always hanging out on the periphery of things, watching Percy, and, if possible, he seemed to hate Oliver more than ever. He kept a low profile until the following Thursday in Charms.

When the Professor ran out of supplies, he always sent a couple of the students to replenish them. Halfway through class, he asked Percy to go to the storeroom, at the other end of the castle to collect the items on his list. "You'll need someone to help carry, does anyone want to go along?"

Oliver saw Flint move to get the teacher's attention and immediately blurted "I'll go." before he could say yes to the other boy.

Professor Flitwick was clearly surprised. "Well, it needn't take three of you," he said, looking at them oddly.

Flint gave him a polite look, and answered. "I'm sure Wood can handle the situation, Professor" Oliver bristled at the tone. That’s right, because if you go outside with me, I’m going to disembowel you, you freak.

On his way out of the classroom, Oliver couldn't resist giving him a mocking look. Flint sneered back at him. Bastard. I can't believe he had the nerve. The storeroom is so bloody isolated…

Oliver stalked through the halls, barely noticing Percy walking beside him till Percy grabbed him by the shoulder. "Oliver, stop. Calm down a little." he said

"Calm down? Percy, the storeroom is way off at the end of the building, with no classrooms, teachers, or even other students around. Just because Flint has been quieter this last couple weeks doesn't mean he’s given up!" Oliver was practically hissing.

Percy gave him a darkly humorous look. "I'm well aware of that Oliver, having been paying attention to his activities. But he didn't manage to get assigned the task, did he."

"But Percy, what if I hadn't gotten his attention first?"

"I don't know," replied Percy with a shrug. "I would have managed somehow. This is much better, but I can take care of myself you know. I wound up going down here with him at the beginning of the term, and I came out of it just fine."

Ha. You won't use magic, and he has the advantage physically. And he's getting very, very frustrated. They reached the storeroom, and entered, Percy examining the list. Oliver watched him, still worrying over the fact that it could have been Flint here with Percy instead of him. Red hair shone in the light from the single window, as he stood musing over the list, with an intent expression on his face. He really is beautiful, in a strange way. Which is why Flint went after him in the first place. And he's so unsure of himself, sometimes, despite the bravado he tries to put on... He hasn’t even tried to put on the officious act much lately, around us. He must seem like the perfect victim to someone like Flint. I've got to make him see that this can't go on. He needs to tell Dumbledore, and get Flint expelled before something bad happens. Like Flint disarming him and carrying through on a few of those... fantasies... he writes Percy.

Without any further thought, he caught Percy and pressed him up against the wall, holding Percy's hands away from his sides, and leaning one shoulder against his chest. He was careful not to apply his full weight, but just enough that Percy was firmly trapped. Percy dropped the list in surprise. "O-Oliver! What are you d-doing?"

"Making a point," said Oliver grimly. "If Flint caught you like this, could you get out of it?"

Percy looked away, a mix of unhappiness and confusion on his face. "I could use magic, and escape easily," he said.

"But will you? Use it that is? What if he takes your wand? You can't even reach your wand from here." Oliver was surprised to hear how plaintive he sounded. With a sigh he released Percy, running a hand through his hair as he paced. "Have you ever been in a fight? A physical fight that is..."

"Many times, with my brothers," Percy said wryly, relaxing against the wall. He still wasn't meeting Oliver's eyes.

"I mean one in which you didn't have to pull any punches, where the other person was intent on causing as much permanent damage as they can."

Percy shook his head shortly. "No."

"Did you ever take anything like boxing, or wrestling or martial arts or something?"

"No, my mother doesn't believe in physical violence as a solution to problems. I don't either for that matter," he finished with a slight smile.

"Well, my mother thinks that everyone should be able to defend themselves, with or without their wands. So I learned how to defend myself quite young. Maybe... maybe I could teach you a little, so that you COULD make Flint back off, even if he disarmed you." Oliver volunteered hesitantly.

Percy looked unnerved. "What makes you think he could disarm me?"

"What if he caught you off guard, like I just did?" Oliver countered.

"I wouldn't BE off guard around Marcus Flint," Percy said with very deliberate calm. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to learn your way though, if you really want to take the time to show me."

Gotcha! Not quite as confident as you think, huh? This could even be fun in a way... "Brilliant! We start tomorrow after dinner. We'll go off to the gym. No one should be there at that time, and we can figure out what you already know, and what you need to learn." Oliver grinned at him, feeling that all was well in the world again.

"Why do I think I'm gong to regret this?" Percy complained, rolling his eyes. He picked up the list off the floor. "Make yourself useful and find the Kingsfoil... if we don't get back soon they'll send out a search party."

~~

In the morning, everyone clearly expected Percy to automatically come along with them to Hogsmeade. Eventually though, they all stood, ready to go, around his desk and stared at him.

"Percy, hurry up!" groused Davin.

Percy's eyes went wide. "Oh, umm... okay."

As he looked for his cloak the rest of them trouped downstairs, leaving Oliver alone with him. "You have a standing invitation you know, Percy, you always have. And now that you've gone with us once, they'll never let you out of it again." Oliver teased him gently. He still feels he shouldn't go along with us places unless he's invited. I'll never understand how he ended up being so...reserved coming out of the Weasley family.

Percy shot him one of his sideways smiles, as Oliver flung a companionable arm around him and they headed down the stairs.

"Don't forget, we're going to the gym after dinner."

"How could I possibly forget," muttered Percy, still smiling faintly.

They passed Flint on the way out of the castle. Percy was talking to Tim, and didn't even notice. But Oliver did, mainly because the expression on Flint's face was so unexpected. With a slightly bewildered look on his face, he was gazing at Percy with absolute longing. When he saw Oliver looking at him, he snarled and headed off the other direction.

 

~~

That evening, standing in the dim lights of the empty gymnasium, facing a clearly uneasy Percy, Oliver wasn't sure that this had been such a good idea after all. He's gone and tensed up so much. I'd feel so much better if he knew at least a bit of how to drive off an attacker, but if he's dreading it so much...

 

"Okay, Percy, I'm going to grab you, and you try to break my hold on you," he said encouragingly.

Try something easy. Maybe if he can break out of it easily, he'll calm down a bit. Oliver merely grabbed Percy by the arm. Percy looked at him a moment in confusion then easily twisted out of his grasp and raised an eyebrow at him.

Oliver grinned. "Good. Let's try another one." They ran through several scenarios, and Percy gradually started to relax, although he seemed afraid he was going to hurt Oliver in repulsing the mock attacks. Seeing that the other boy was calmer, Oliver launched into the kinds of things Flint was more likely to try, carefully stopping to show Percy various ways of breaking free, and then making him practice them till Oliver felt that there was at least a chance that he could manage them.

He wasn't kidding about the non-violent tendencies. He doesn't seem to have the instinct at all. He freezes, then reaches for his wand. And a bloody good thing I made him leave it back at the room, or I'd probably be a toad or something by now. Percy was sweating a little, and Oliver was hesitant about the next attack he had in mind. It's the obvious one, given the size disparity and all. He's too tall for it to be an issue generally, but Flint is just plain bigger. Too bad he wouldn't let me tell the others. Gareth is every bit as big as Flint, he'd be perfect for Percy to practice on.

 

With a sigh, he grabbed Percy, and bore him to the floor, keeping his full weight from hitting him, but trapping him firmly. Percy's blue eyes got very wide, but he didn't panic. He made a halfhearted attempt to squirm out from beneath him, but with his wrists held above his head, and Oliver’s weight pinning down the rest of his body, he didn’t succeed in even loosening the grip.

"Have to do better than that, Percy old boy," Oliver smiled at him, trying to gauge if he'd gone too far. Percy was very tense beneath him, but merely regarded Oliver with a resigned expression through glasses sitting at a comical angle. Doesn't look much like himself, with his hair all messed up like this, all out of breath. Oliver felt his stomach lurch uneasily as he looked down at the other boy.

Percy shifted restlessly, or tried to anyway. "Are you going to tell me how to break this, or are you making a point again in a doomed attempt to get me to go running to McGonagall?"

Oliver flinched, realizing he'd been lost in thought. He tried a smile at Percy, and received a puzzled one back. "Just trying to think what would work best."

"Aren't you supposed to think of these things BEFORE you're lying on me and constricting my breathing?" inquired Percy, relaxing.

"I'm not, am I?" asked Oliver worriedly.

"No," Percy said sheepishly.

"All right then." Oliver found that all his ideas had completely fled his mind. What's the matter with me? I'm having a stroke or something. Okay, I've got both his arms and legs trapped...oh. "Head Butt."

Percy looked baffled. "You know, you smash your head into mine - don't try this one-" he added hastily at the doubtful look in Percy's eyes. "Because I'd rather not be in pain, but probably your best bet is to smash your head into his face... aim for his nose if you can."

"Aim for his nose." Percy sounded dubious.

"He should recoil at least a little, might even let go of one of your arms." Oliver said, levering himself off the boy and offering him a hand up.

Percy took it and a moment later stood dusting himself off. "Well, have I passed your requirements?" he asked, a bit defensively, face flushing.

 

He just hates the thought of there being something he's not good at, doesn't he...  
"Well, it's a good start. You just need a little practice. And I need to think up another alternative for breaking that last thing, in case that doesn't work." Oliver replied. "Maybe we could practice a couple other nights after dinner?"

"Can't," said Percy. "I have to be in the library in the evenings, to help any of the younger ones that need it."

"They can't do without you for even a couple evenings?" Oliver asked crankily.

Percy looked at him with a mildly amused expression. "Can the Quidditch team do without you for a couple practices?"

Oliver grinned sheepishly. "All right, all right, you've made your point. What about next Saturday evening then? That's the night of the week there's the least people doing actual school work, I'd imagine."

"Deal," said Percy, as they collected their stuff and headed back to Gryffindor Tower.

~~

This is it. If Ravenclaw doesn't win, it will take a miracle for us to win the cup this year. Ravenclaw's GOT to win.

Oliver, having returned from giving the Ravenclaw Captain all the advice he could think of, slumped down on the bench between Tim and Percy.

"Relax, Oliver," Tim said, amused. "Ravenclaw's good. I'm sure they'll win."

Tim had never really understood the importance of Quidditch. "The Hufflepuff Seeker is good. There's no getting around it. Harry's better, but it's not Harry he's playing against."

"Ravenclaw will win," Gareth said with a wink. "They're too afraid of what Oliver will do to them otherwise to fail!"

Oliver growled, focused entirely on the field as the game began. Ravenclaw's keeper made a last-second save and he rose to his feet, cheering.

If they don't win, it won't be for lack of encouragement on my part! He grabbed Percy with an arm around his neck and hugged him, without thinking about it, noticing Angelina and Katie dancing on their seats a little further down. All right, if they don't win, it won't be for lack of encouragement on my team's part.

Percy shook his head in amusement and dragged him back down into his seat. Tim slumped over on the bench, clearly bored beyond belief.

"Tim, this is important! Ravenclaw needs all the encouragement it can get!" Oliver hounded him until he sat up and clapped politely as Ravenclaw scored the first goal of the game.

Percy kept up a series of muttered comments about Hufflepuff every time it looked like they might score a goal, distracting Oliver from his pain in spite of himself. When Ravenclaw finally won, Oliver was moved near tears by the sheer relief.

Between Lupin giving Harry lessons to keep the Dementors from affecting him and the win, he was pretty nearly ecstatic, in fact. Gareth and Davin ceased cheering long enough to laugh at him, and Tim simply muttered sardonically from his seat that he had "told him so". Percy smiled up at Oliver with genuine, untainted happiness for him; which made Oliver have to thump him on the back repeatedly while going over the vital replay of the game.

~~

Oliver caught Percy burning a note on Tuesday, but let it go, since Flint's chances to get at Percy were much more limited now. Plus, he was beginning to resign himself to the fact that Percy was never going to hand one over willingly.

Friday evening, Oliver, Tim, Davin, and Gareth were all working on their homework in the Gryffindor common room. Well, the other three were. Oliver was feeling oddly out of sorts, restless. I'm BORED. Rather be playing Quidditch. What do I need to know this stuff for anyway? It's completely irrelevant. Sulking, he doodled randomly across his scroll.

"Oliver, I don't think drawing Quidditch diagrams is going to support your thesis," Tim informed him.

"I don't HAVE a thesis," muttered Oliver darkly.

"Oh. Well, it helps to have a thesis when writing an essay, so you might want to come up with one," came the amused reply.

"This is boring," complained Oliver. "And completely irrelevant for a career in Quidditch. I am never going to use this stuff once I graduate."

He looked up to see all three of them looking at him in amusement. "Well, not graduating will pose a considerable obstacle to a career in Quidditch," Tim said. Then, with a resigned shake of his head, he added, "Why don't we move to the library; maybe it'll inspire you to actually do your work."

Library. Well, at least I get to walk from here to there. Percy ought to be there too. "Okay," he said, abruptly much cheered.

As they gathered up their work, Oliver paced over to the door and waited impatiently.

When they reached the library, Gareth led them all over to the table where Percy was sitting with a fourth year Gryffindor. "Percy, when you have a moment, DO something with Oliver, he's refusing to write his essay."

Percy raised an eyebrow at him quizzically. "What am I supposed to do about it?" he asked, amused.

"I don't know, tell him what happens to bad little boys who don't do their homework or something. The fidgeting and sighing are distracting." Gareth grumbled.

Percy looked at Oliver. "Write your essay," he ordered, in his most officious voice. He didn't take interruptions during tutoring lightly.

Noticing the fourth year watching in fascination, Oliver ducked his head with mocking meekness. "Yes, head boy, right away, head boy." Percy quirked a half smile at him before turning his attention back to the younger boy.

Oliver stared at his marked-up parchment. I still don't want to do this. Looking at his absently drawn diagram from earlier, he got distracted. Hmm... if I had the second chaser go around this way...

Some time later a brush of warm breath on his hand as someone leaned over and looked at his paper broke his concentration. "No," Percy said, answering something Tim had asked. "It's more Quidditch diagrams."

Oliver unexpectedly found himself blushing, and tried to take their attention off him. "I suppose you've already gotten yours written," he glared mildly at Percy, and at Tim, who was seated across from him.

"Almost done mine," Tim replied. "And so would you be if you'd just started it."

Oliver glared.

"What exactly IS the problem with the essay," Percy asked him.

"No thesis," muttered Oliver.

Five minutes later he found himself staring down at a clean scroll, quill in hand, a thesis statement written across the top. Percy was waving over a group of first-year girls who were hovering nearby, uncertain if they could interrupt. How did he do that? And what're Davin and Gareth smirking at me like that for? Suppose I might as well work on the bloody thing.

~~

Saturday evening found Oliver and Percy back in the gymnasium, Percy looking scarcely less uncomfortable than the previous week. Here we go again.

Foregoing the easier things he'd started with the last week, Oliver went straight to grabbing him from behind, pinning his arms to his side. Again, Percy froze momentarily, but then he quickly broke free. He remembered fine, it's that moment of panic that worries me. But only practice will get rid of that. At least he's not reaching for his wand anymore.

He tested Percy on all the other things, and was amazed to realize that Percy remembered everything from the last session perfectly. He only had to make slight corrections. If he keeps this up I might be able to teach him some actual offensive techniques!

"You learn everything faster than the average wizard, don’t you!" Oliver shook his head ruefully, wondering how he could have really expected anything else.

Percy blushed, surprised by the compliment. Oliver was startled to find that he could see a difference between a happy Percy-blush and an unhappy one. Shaking his head to clear it, he continued, since Percy seemed to be at a loss for words. "Want to learn how to punch a bloke for the most damage?"

Percy looked scandalized. "You know, the glee with which you said that is even more disturbing than the idea of deliberately hurting someone."

"Good," Oliver said with satisfaction, "Then you’re getting desensitized to the idea of injuring people. A step in the right direction."

Percy stared at him for a moment before bursting into laughter. Oliver watched, fascinated by the change in Percy’s face. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him really just lose it laughing over something.

Percy sat down on the floor clutching his sides. "A step - " he gasped, shaking his head. "Oliver, you are STRANGE."

Oliver considered that statement and decided to take it as a compliment. Percy was resuming his normal calm expression, he noted regretfully. "You may be right," he said, with a smile, "but evidently I’m an excellent teacher. Okay, one last hold for you to break and then we’ll see about punching."

Percy gave him a resigned look. "You thought of a way other than smashing my head into your nose to break that last hold? "

"No, but a variation of that hold. You'll probably think of it yourself, after having learned all this other stuff." That said, Oliver swiftly moved so that he was trapped under him again, this time with his hands at his side. He should be able to put enough pressure on my shoulders to knock me off this way. He's stronger than he looks.

Percy looked at him for a moment, then shook his head. Huh? Twisting his hands in Oliver’s grip be wriggled his fingers against Oliver’s side. Oliver gave a yelp of laughter and launched himself off. Percy snickered from his position on the floor.

"Tickling?? Your method of breaking that hold was to TICKLE me?" Oliver gasped, laughing. That was NOT what I had in mind. It worked though...I guess.

"Tickling attacks are fairly common in my house," Percy said with amusement. "It may not be the most violent of responses, but it DID work." He looked insufferably smug.

Seized by an evil impulse, Oliver smiled at him. The smug look faltered. "Oliver?"

In a single move, Oliver had caught Percy’s wrists in one hand and pinned them to the floor over his head, using the other hand to tickle him mercilessly. Percy howled in protest, writhing with laughter. Then fingers brushed soft skin where Percy’s shirt had pulled up, and Oliver abruptly released him, moving away. He could feel the deep blush creeping up his neck onto his face.

Percy lay gasping on the floor, hair dishevelled, shirt partly untucked so that a line of fair skin showed, trying to get control of the laughter. "That," he said reproachfully as he pushes his glasses back into place, "was not fair."

Oliver drew a deep breath, unaccountably relieved. "Maybe not, but I owed you for the shock you gave me," he said lightly.

He stood up and held a hand out to Percy, which Percy took unhesitatingly. Oliver looked away as the other boy straightened his clothes.

"You know, a throw might be better to teach you," he mused aloud.

"All right," came the obliging reply. "It’s all the same to me, really."

An hour later they were both out of breath, but Percy had finally mastered the simple throw Oliver had been trying to show him. We’re both going to be sore tomorrow. But I think he’s got it.

"Okay, we’d better stop now," Oliver said

"Thank goodness," said Percy, flopping gracelessly to the mat.

Oliver chuckled. "It’s not that bad. You could do that throw in your sleep now."

"And I might," Percy said sourly.

Oliver sat down on the mat beside him, stifling a yawn. "Well, I’ll keep it in mind to stay well away from you when you’re half awake."

That earned him another half smile. Then Percy glanced at the clock and bolted to his feet. "Oliver! We’ve only got another 5 minutes to get back! If we get caught out, we’ll lose points for Gryffindor."

There was honest dismay on his face, so Oliver hauled himself to his feet. "Let’s run then," he said, suiting action to words.

They were late, but they didn't get caught.


	4. Realizations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which various people arrive at several conclusions.

Percy sat down on his bed with a sigh, a piece of paper in his hand. "Something wrong?" Oliver asked, a little too sharply.

Percy gave him an exasperated look and shook his head. "Letter from Mum. Ron is staying over Christmas, along with Hermione, to keep Harry company. Therefore, I am staying here over Christmas, to keep an eye on those three."

"She doesn't think the many professors who stay here are enough?"

"Mum doesn't think small armies are enough. And all things considered, she's probably right."

"Davin and I are staying too," Gareth said, from across the room. "My parents are overseas, and he's just got too many relatives."  
  
"Too many relatives?"

"Ten older brothers and sisters, all with at least three children. Christmas is hell." Davin said, darkly.

Percy's eyebrow rose, but he refrained from comment. He looked slightly depressed. Oliver knew he'd been looking forward to going home.

Gareth laughed at Percy's expression. "Don't worry, Percy, we'll keep you company." He patted Percy on the shoulder as he passed by to collect his books off the floor where he'd dumped them last night, and Oliver scowled at him. The others seemed to be getting awfully proprietary about Percy lately. He shrugged it off, acknowledging that he was probably just a little jealous that "his" friend had other friends.

When did Percy become "my" friend, anyway? Percy's right, I AM strange. Still, Flint stays for Christmas. Maybe I should just stick around. I've never stayed here over Christmas before, and most of my friends are staying...

"I'm probably staying too," Oliver heard himself say.

Gareth stopped and looked at him. "Since when? You always go home."

"I... got a letter from Mum a couple days ago saying that they want to go to Aunt Millicent's for Christmas, and Aunt Millicent is so stuffy. I was thinking of staying," Oliver said, uncomfortably.

Percy brightened considerably, so Oliver flung himself down next to Percy and threw a companionable arm around him. "Don't worry, I wouldn't leave anyone I liked with only Gareth and Davin for entertainment," he said, smirking at Gareth.

Across the room, Davin laughed at something Tim said, and Gareth gave Oliver a considering look. Suddenly panicking, Oliver said, with elaborate casualness, "I've got a meeting with a couple people from the team. I'll be back in a bit." He left the room as fast as he could without running, feeling four startled stares chasing him out the door.

That was...odd. They're all acting strangely, lately, except Percy. He at least seems to be happier than he was. Even with Sirius Black on the loose. And Flint hasn't done anything much lately, because he can't get anywhere near Percy anymore. Which is how it should be.

So, why did I just lie to everyone?

Oliver found himself outside the changing rooms on the edge of the Quidditch Pitch, and let himself in. He realized he would have to stay away for at least a half an hour, and began pacing.

I need to get my head on straight. I'm not usually this...scattered. I don't know how many times Dad's told me to think before speaking, and I just proved once again that that isn't my strong point. At least Percy didn't look like he thought I was being pushy and over-protective again. He looked... pleased.

Of course, who WOULD want to be stuck there with just Gareth and Davin. They'd just argue with you the whole time for the fun of it. Not at all restful.

And I could distract Harry and the others, if he needed help. Harry's Quidditch-mad enough that he'd come out and practice with me daily. Hmm... I wonder if I had him run some drills, would it help him prepare for the next game? We need the cup this year. It's my last chance. And it means something to the professional Quidditch teams to be the Captain of the winning team at Hogwarts. Every little bit helps.

Oliver firmly distracted himself with plans for Quidditch for the next forty minutes. He barely made it back before curfew, which he thought worked out quite well, as everyone was getting ready for bed.

As he brushed his teeth, he caught Tim eyeing him with a grin in the mirror. "What?" he grumbled, "never seen a wizard brush their teeth before?"

Tim snorted, and shook his head. "You're impossible, Oliver, you really are."

"Thank you for that oh-so-meaningful commentary."

"I'm going to bed," Tim said. "Feel free to wake me up if you should suddenly feel the urge to talk about something...anything at all. I'm still your friend, you know. I'd listen. God knows I spend enough time listening to Gareth and Davin talk about Melody."

Oliver stared after him in bewilderment.  _I hate it when he does things like that. Obviously, that was significant, but I've got no idea what he's talking about. Maybe it looks like Melody is finally going to choose one of them? That WOULD be trouble. I don't see what I could do about it though._

~~

Astronomy Class met at midnight. Oliver had always hated it, because it made it much to hard to wake up the next morning. Students were shuffling about, rattling papers, and generally not paying much attention to Professor Sinistra.

Oliver stared sleepily out across the grounds in the direction of the Quidditch Pitch, caught up in his thoughts, until he felt someone lean up against the wall beside him. He looked over to see Flint, looking bored.

"What do you want, Flint?"

"What's your problem, Wood, I'm just standing here."

"If you're up to something, I will find out and you'll pay for it."

Flint made a dismissive motion. "Sure, just like you're always certain you're going to beat us at Quidditch. Your team is a waste of space, Wood. When your Chasers aren't falling off their brooms, your Seeker's running away from the big bad dementors.

Furious now, Oliver kept his voice casual. "Must say something about your team, then, since you keep losing to us."

"Gryffindor's been winning based entirely on Dumbledore's soft spot for Potter," Flint snarled. He stood just out of Oliver's reach, expression mocking. "It won't help you this year, Wood. Slytherin's going to win. And to the victor, go the spoils."

Oliver glared at Flint, disgusted by his meaningful glance towards Percy. "He's not 'spoils', Flint, and he doesn't want anything to do with you. Or hadn't you noticed?" He sneered.

"I wouldn't be too sure about that, Wood," Flint said, a cruel smile on his face.

"What are you talking about?"

"For someone who doesn't want anything to do with me, he's not trying very hard to get away, is he." Flint looked smug, and Oliver stifled the urge to toss him off the tower.

"You're sick, you know that? He told you he wasn't interested, and he meant it. End of story. What does he have to do, use one of the forbidden curses on you before you get that?"

Some of the smugness was fading into anger now. "He's teasing for it, Wood. What's the matter, upset at the thought that you might be interfering where he doesn't want you to?"

Furious, Oliver grabbed him by the front of his robes. Before he could strike the other boy, his arm was grabbed from behind, and Sinistra was pulling him away. "What's going on here?" She said, with great annoyance.

"I was just standing here, Professor." Flint managed to look almost innocent.

  
"Wood was trying to start a fight over Quidditch," added Christian, seeming to appear out of nowhere. "When Marcus wouldn't go along with it, he tried to attack him."

"That is NOT what happened," Oliver snarled, trying to break the Professor's grip on his arm.

"You may go back to your room, Oliver. You will have completed a report on Cassiopeia for me by next class, or you will serve detention. Am I quite clear?"

"Yes, Professor. Quite clear."

A crowd had gathered around by this point, and Oliver spotted Davin looking concerned, with an irritated-looking Percy beside him. He winced, suspecting that another lecture was forthcoming about ignoring Flint, and stomped off towards the stairs.

I might as well start on that essay, I guess. Flint set me up. I suppose it's his idea of revenge. Better me than Percy....

~~

"That was Neptune, you fool!"

"It looked like Mercury to me," Davin grumbled.

"It was obviously Neptune! There were rings!"

"Mercury has rings."

"No, it doesn't!"

"Will you two give it a rest?" Tim sounded exasperated, and Oliver looked up from his partially completed report to see them all filing in.

All but Percy. Why isn't he with them?

"Where's Percy?" Oliver asked.

"Sinistra asked for a couple 'volunteers' to clean up in the Astronomy Tower. Percy got picked. He'll be along shortly, Oliver."

It's not likely Flint was picked, and I can't very well ask them without them wondering why. And I can't tell them why, because Percy will kill me.

"I'm just going to the washroom," he said, heading out the door.

"Percy's not going to get lost walking back from class, Oliver," Davin said, dropping onto the bed.

"Who said anything about going to get Percy?" Oliver closed the door behind him before they could ask any more questions, and hurried in the direction of the Astronomy Tower.

He arrived just in time to see Flint pull Percy close and kiss him. Oliver's vision went nearly black with rage for a moment, hurt tearing through him.  _Surely Percy wouldn't. He couldn't have -_

Percy shoved Flint away violently. "Get OFF me, Marcus!"

"You know you want this, Percy," Flint said softly, sliding a hand down Percy's arm.

Percy flinched away from the touch. "Why won't you believe me when I've told you a thousand times, I don't want this?"

Flint pulled him in closer, taking hold of Percy's hand. Oliver couldn't see what was going on, but Percy looked disgusted, and Flint leapt back with a yelp, even as Oliver broke out of his paralysis and rushed towards them.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Weasley?"

Percy glared, not giving an inch. "Why don't you seek counseling, Flint, for your delusions!" His wand appeared in his hand. Oliver paused, a foot away, and couldn't help but grin at the expression on Percy's face. One wrong move, and Flint would be finding himself living the life of a Newt. Flint had made a mistake in cornering Percy at a time and place he thought he could defend himself without attracting attention.

Muttering curses, Flint turned away reluctantly, finally catching sight of Oliver. "What's the matter, Wood? Were you hoping for some private time with your boyfriend up here? So sorry to disappoint you," he spat.

"I really don't think my boyfriend and I are running short on 'private time', Flint," he said cheerfully. "In fact, we've got more private time than we need. Too bad you can't find yourself a willing partner."

"Right, Wood, I'm sure Weasley would ever date you," Flint taunted, rigid with anger.

"Of course I would," Percy said, firmly.

Flint went slack-jawed with shock, hurt creeping onto his face, as Percy walked past him towards Oliver. Oliver almost felt sorry for him.

"Stay away from my boyfriend, Flint," he said firmly, as Percy pulled him towards the stairs.

They were halfway back to the dormitory when Percy spoke again. "Why'd you say I was your boyfriend?"

Oliver fidgeted uncomfortably. "Well, you did say that he wasn't trying to physically corner you when you were dating Penelope. If he thinks you're dating someone else, maybe he'll finally get the hint. And he set it up so nicely..."

After a long moment when Oliver wondered if Percy was going to snap at him for trying to 'rescue' him again, Percy snickered softly. "His face.... He was in shock."

Relieved, Oliver grinned at him.  _In one fell swoop, I get rid of Flint. And without even angering Percy. I am GOOD._

~~

Flint strode to the front of the classroom the next morning, and hissed something in Ewan Galapagos’s ear which caused the Ravenclaw boy to abruptly pick up his books and abandon his seat as Percy looked on in shock.

_What the hell does he think he's doing?_  Oliver was on his feet, grabbing Flint by the arm before he even had time to think. The entire class fell silent, attention drawn by the sudden drama at the front of the class.

Flint sneered at him before shaking off the warning hand on his arm. "Oh, I'm sorry Wood, I didn't think. Of course you'd want to sit with your boyfriend, wouldn't you." He gave Oliver a smug look, as Oliver realized he'd very nicely walked into a trap. Percy had gone sheet white, and was staring down at his desk.

_So much for having gotten rid of him. If I claim he's not my boyfriend, Flint's going to redouble his efforts, knowing I lied last night. And take this seat. There's nothing he can do to Percy, sitting in the front row, other than notes, but I just can't let -_  "Nice of you to think of that," he said smoothly. "Get your own boyfriend, Flint."

Percy was abruptly staring at him like he'd lost his mind. Whispering broke out across the classroom, causing Oliver to blush, but he grabbed his books, and took the seat beside Percy. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Tim waving over the displaced Ravenclaw.  _I have no idea how to explain this to them. Maybe Percy will let me break the promise? Just to tell them? They're never going to believe the two of us are dating...._

Flitwick entered the class, and Flint slunk back to his original seat, unhappy with having his revenge turned back on him. Percy was rigid in the seat next to him. He nudged him with an elbow, and gave him a reassuring smile. Percy smiled hesitantly back, clearly still distressed. He glanced down at Oliver's scroll and flicked his wand at it discreetly. Words appeared on the page.

Thank you. You didn't have to do that. Everyone is going to think you're dating me now, which is hardly going to look good for you.

_Look good for me? Why would it look bad for me? If I were dating Percy I certainly wouldn't be ashamed of it or anything...._  Not knowing the spell Percy had used, Oliver had to resort to simply writing on his scroll, under the magically created words.

Don't be ridiculous. If it makes Flint back off, it's more than worth it. And you're scarcely someone anybody'd be ashamed of dating!

He turned the paper slightly sideways for Percy to read, watching him closely. Percy blushed deeply, and looked flustered. Another twitch of his wand, and more words appeared on the scroll.

I'm sorry I got you into this. But I am very glad for your help.

Now it was Oliver's turn to blush, as he scribbled underneath the statement.

I think it was more along the lines of me shoving myself into the middle of the situation against your best efforts. But I'm glad you're letting me help now.

"Mr. Wood! Mr. Weasley! If I could have your attention, please!" Professor Flitwick said sternly. He gave Percy a look of disbelief, which caused the poor boy to turn even redder as he abruptly applied himself to his notes.

There was distinct giggling from some of the girls. Oliver discreetly glanced over at Tim, who appeared to be stifling laughter.  _Coming up with an explanation for this is going to be interesting. I just hope this isn't all over the school by the end of the day. Percy will not be a happy camper if it is._

  
~~

When Oliver made it to Quidditch practice that night, he was greeted by a team trying very hard to maintain straight faces.  _Tell me they haven't already heard. Maybe I've been working them so hard that this is their way of dealing with stress. After all, they've been awfully amused about something or other the last few practices._

"Let's get started shall we?" he asked determinedly.  _Quidditch. The part of life where everything is simple and straightforward._

"Certainly, dear brother in law," Fred snickered.

Oliver froze. The entire team was breaking out into laughter now.

"Very funny, Fred, get moving." he grumbled, continuing on his way. Disappointed, they fell into position.  _Certainly didn't take long for the news to spread, did it..._

In the locker room after Quidditch, Oliver looked up to see George Weasley, Fred standing behind him. The twins had lost no opportunity the entire practice session to tease him about Percy.

"Just so you understand," George said, without a trace of his usual humour. "If you hurt Percy, we'll hurt you." Fred nodded decisively beside him.

Oliver's jaw dropped.  _George Weasley is threatening me?_  "I have no intention of hurting your brother!" he spluttered.  _I don't believe this!_

"Good!" said George, with a hearty slap to the back. "So what're you going to do about the rumours that Slytherin is planning to pull something big next match?"

Oliver followed him out of the room, shaking his head in bafflement.

~~

When he reached his room, the first thing he noticed was that Percy wasn't there. Momentarily panicking, he asked, "Where's Percy?"

Tim, Gareth, and Davin exploded into laughter. Oliver winced, realizing how that had come out. "In the library, tutoring somebody again. As usual." Gareth informed him.

Of course. Well, I can discuss this with them, and then go over to meet him. He won't be done till the library closes I'm sure.

All three of them had regained composure and were now looking at him expectantly as he shifted uneasily from foot to foot in the doorway.

"Uh yeah, about today..." he started.

"It's all right Oliver, we already knew," said Tim with amusement.

_WHAT???_  "Already knew...."  _They know about Flint? How did they find out? I never would have known if I hadn't run across the two of them that -_

"Well, did you really think nobody was going to notice?" said Davin with an incredulous look.

Oliver walked over to his bed, and sat down, feeling completely stunned. ".... notice?" he asked.

Tim piped up, voice elaborately patient. "It's not exactly a secret that you're completely gone on Percy, Oliver."

Oliver stared. "What?"

Tim rolled his eyes. "Oliver, you've been all over him for two months! You watch him constantly, can't keep your hands to yourself, and whenever he leaves your sight you throw a temper tantrum!"

"A temper tantrum? What are you talking about!" Oliver asked, grasping at the last item in the ridiculous list.

"Come on, Oliver, you refused to do your homework till we took you to the library the other day. And then you still wouldn't do it till you'd gotten a sufficient amount of his attention!" Gareth laughed.

"That's not what happened at all!"

"You don't pay any attention in class because you're too busy watching him," Tim added.

"And you've always got a hand on his shoulder or back," Davin said, with great glee. "Less obvious than hand-holding, I guess, but not by much. Not to mention completely missing curfew last Saturday, after you vanished for the evening. I had to lie to McGonagall to cover for you, you know."

"Have you all gone mad?" he asked them.  _Clearly this must be some sort of joke. I - they can't honestly BELIEVE - I mean - They've been my friends since first year! They should be able to tell that I'm not in love with him!_

"Oliver, it's out in the open now. You can't have really thought we'd have any problem with it. You can just admit it!" Tim said, shaking his head.

"There's nothing TO admit!" howled Oliver in outrage. "I can't believe you've taken everything so completely out of context! You've gotten everything completely wrong!"

Tim gave him a level look. "Oliver, how many people have you dated?"

"None, you know that. Quidditch takes up too much time and all," Oliver gave his traditional reply, wondering where this was going. " I can't afford to be distracted."

"Uh huh... and how many times were you late to Quidditch practice before actually CHANGING THE TIME of that practice so you could talk to him after class?"

Oliver bolted to his feet and headed out the door. "You've got it entirely wrong," he muttered, on his way out.

Without even thinking about it, he found himself at the library. Automatically, he looked for Percy. He was sitting, looking calm and unruffled, in his usual spot, helping Neville Longbottom. Oliver slipped off to a table in the shadows to brood.

_I can't believe they really think that! Of course, I guess it might look weird to somebody that doesn't know, but still!_  Some of his usual good humour returned as he contemplated how profoundly his friends had tangled the facts to fit the story.  _If I ever get to explain this too them, they're going to feel ridiculous. At least Percy doesn't seem bothered by it right now. Guess the younger students would never dare mention it to him anyway._

He watched in fascination as Percy patiently explained something to the younger boy. Then wrote out something for him to see... an example, probably. He seemed to be possessed of an endless amount of patience, as long as he wasn't dealing with his brothers. Then, Oliver had noticed, he had about 5 minutes of patience. Of course, they never asked for his help, either. Most of the time Percy was chasing them around, trying to MAKE them accept help.  _Strange that he wants to go to the ministry... he'd make a great professor for the younger kids. He's got enough enthusiasm on just about any academic subject to teach too!_  Oliver lost the tension of the day as he watched. Gradually he became aware of a couple girls sitting at the next table, their backs towards him.

"It's really too bad about him being gay," one sighed.

"Which one?" came the reply.

"Either of them. But then Lisa did say the other day that she thought there was something going on there. I owe her two galleons now."

"Two galleons? Where are you going to get the money?"

"I have no idea."

"Well, it is just hearsay that they're going out."

Abruptly, Oliver realized they were talking about him and Percy.  _Is there anyone in this school who hasn't heard the rumour and believed it?_ With an exasperated shake of his head he returned his attention to Percy, who was gathering his books to leave.  _Well, if everyone believes it anyway, I might as well go intercept him._

Percy gave him a hesitant smile as he reached him, which Oliver returned more successfully. As they walked out of the library, Neville, blushing, stammered an excuse and fled down the hall the wrong way.

"What was that all about?" Oliver asked, baffled by the younger boy's behaviour. Neville was not the most outgoing of boys, but he didn't usually bolt at the sight of Oliver. Bolt at the sight of Snape, yes, and quite often Fred and George....

"I -er - I think because of what people are saying, he -umm" Percy was stammering, face red.

"Thought we wanted to be alone," Oliver finished with a groan.

"Yes," Percy confirmed. "I really am sorry about all this, I -"

Oliver laughed. "Let's not start that again."

Percy nodded mutely.

Oliver tried to get a clear look at Percy's face, but he was looking down at the floor as they walked along. Finally, he reached out and caught him by the arm. "Percy -" He started, then realized that a group of first years were walking past giggling. "Oh for pity's sake," he grumbled, and pulled him into one of the empty classrooms, shutting the door. "Does no one in this school have anything better to do than poke their noses into our personal lives?"

Percy chuckled, and leaned against the wall. "Evidently not. You do realize pulling me into an empty classroom is hardly going to help the rumours die down, don't you?"

Abruptly realizing the probable reaction to that, Oliver couldn't stop the blush from spreading across his face, which seemed to amuse Percy. "I should have thought of that," he muttered. "Too late now. Just wanted to know if you're doing okay, I mean with everybody talking about us and everything." He trailed off uncertainly.

"I'm fine. Nobody quite dares mention it to me, but the general consensus seems to be that I'm lucky," Percy replied wryly.

Oliver was startled into blushing again. "Well, I heard it the other way around. Did you know your brothers actually threatened me?"

"What?" Percy straightened, looking entirely shocked.

"Yeah, I believe George's exact words were 'if you hurt him, we'll hurt you'," Oliver grumbled good-naturedly.

Percy was shaking his head. "I had no idea they cared... are you sure they weren't playing a prank on you? I have every reason to expect they'll be waiting to attack me in the common room. They were bad enough about Penny."

"You're a Weasley... the lot of you may not always get along, but you'll defend each other to the death." Oliver laughed. "No, the teasing came earlier. They were serious." He watched Percy attempt to digest that particular piece of information.  _He really doesn't think his brothers care as much about him as he does about them. He gets such strange ideas sometimes._

Percy shook his head, as if to clear it. "Well, I haven't seen hide nor hair of Flint since class. Maybe he'll go away now."

Oliver grinned at him. "Well, if it makes him back down a bit, all to the better. He thought he got some big revenge on us by 'outing' us, but the only person I've heard not being supportive was a Slytherin, and even he seemed to be thinking more along the lines of 'who cares'"

"This may be the strangest situation I’ve ever been in in my life," Percy said, shaking his head slowly.

"No kidding," Oliver said in amusement. "Well, shall we continue back to the dormitory?"

"Might as well," Percy said.

Oliver opened the door to see Fred, George, and their friend Lee Jordan standing in a row against the far wall, grinning. He shut the door. "On second thought, maybe we should just stay in here."

~~

Relaxing with Davin in the Common Room after a snowball fight that had grown to include most of the students who'd stayed for Christmas Holiday, Oliver glanced up at the sound of a gasp, and saw Percy walking towards him. He was on his feet and half way to Percy before he even realized he was moving. Percy was talking when they met, but Oliver spoke right over him, frantic, as he ran his fingers gently over the bruises on the other boy’s face. "What happened?" he demanded, well aware of the fury colouring his voice. "Where is he?"  _I’ll kill him, I’ll fucking kill him. Flint is now among the walking dead no matter what Percy says._

Percy was smiling at him, despite looking shaken.  _Smiling?_  "He’s in the Infirmary, where he’ll stay till his family comes to pick him up."

Oliver’s jaw dropped, a smile he suspected held more than a tinge of unholy glee creeping across his face. "You - Flint- Did you..?" He couldn’t get the questions straight as Percy’s grin grew brighter still.  _That has to be painful… smiling with those bruises…_

"That throw you taught me came in quite handy," Percy said, practically vibrating now with pride and relief and slight hysteria, and a handful of other things Oliver couldn’t have begun to put a name to.

Oliver couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him, feeling irrational pride rising at the fact that Percy had finally put the blame where it belonged, finally stood up for himself. "All right, Percy," he said softly, smiling at him even as he ran his hands down Percy’s arms and ribs, checking for injuries a second time, just to reassure himself.

Percy rolled his eyes at him, but his smile grew a bit gentler. "I’m FINE, Oliver, it’s just a few bruises."

"Why is Flint getting medical treatment and you’re not? He’s the one -"

Percy broke in, placing a calming hand on Oliver’s shoulder. "I told Mme. Pomphrey to take care of him first. He is hurt much worse than I am." The sheer satisfaction in Percy’s face wiped all worry from Oliver’s mind. "And I thought I might as well let you know, while I waited. It’s over, they’re expelling him from Hogwarts, and it'll go on his permanent record."

Oliver could scarcely get the words out for the fierce triumph blocking his throat. "For all of it? You told them the whole thing?"

Percy’s answer was quiet. "Yes. I told Dumbledore everything, and you were right all along; he didn’t blame me for any of it. He was horrified. I might not have done it," he confessed, looking slightly ashamed, "except for what you said a while back about whether I’d advise this course of action if it were Ron or the Twins in my place. If I let him get away with it this time, what’s to stop him from harassing someone else later? Maybe someone younger and less equipped to deal with it."

There was quiet, stubborn pride in his voice as he finished, and it took Oliver a couple minutes after that to realize that he’d just kissed Percy. A quick, fierce kiss, full of his pride and admiration for Percy’s action, full of his relief that Percy was safe. He blanched, as panic shrieked through his veins. Percy was looking pained and trying to pull his hand from Oliver's grip. Oliver released Percy's hand, backing away. He couldn’t look at Percy. He couldn’t.  _How could I have done that? What have I -_ "I," he gasped. "Sorry - I - I didn't mean-" He all but fled up the stairs to their room.  _I KISSED him. What have I done? I kissed Percy, in front of everyone no less. Completely destroying Percy’s moment of well-earned pride and just - I’m no better than Flint. WHY did I do that?_

He dropped onto his bed, face down, with a groan.  _How can I ever possibly make up for this. I can’t. I took advantage of his friendship, and just took what I wanted like Flint. I didn’t know I was going to, but that doesn’t make it any better! Where the hell did that come from anyway? Percy’s NEVER going to speak to me again, oh gods, this HURTS._

Oh.

I’m in love with him.

My friends all told me, the whole school had no problem believing it, and I didn’t listen. How stupid can I possibly be, not to have noticed the way I - I was so bloody self-satisfied, thinking they were all foolish to twist the facts to fit the story…

I can’t believe I- Have I just been lying to myself? How long has this been going on? When I told Flint that Percy and I were dating? When I taught him the self-defense maneuvers? When Percy came to see if I was okay after the incident with Harry and the Dementors? Before that even?

It changed everything. Everything he’d said and done the last four months took on an entirely different appearance. And some of it was highly unflattering. How much of his behaviour had been motivated by jealousy? Had he been truly trying to help Percy, or just trying to make him NEED Oliver. Bile rose in his throat. Poor Percy, getting rid of one obsessed stalker only to find out he’d had TWO of them all along.

It was unforgivable. It went beyond unforgivable. He'd not only practically assaulted Percy, but he'd humiliated him by doing so in front of witnesses. He tried, with a moan, to remember who had been in the common room just now. _Gareth and Davin, of course. Winslow, Angelina, Katie, and Merrick, I think. What does it matter, the point is, there were witnesses._

Maybe they'll all rise to his defense and kill me. I won't even fight them off. How am I ever going to face another human being as long as I live? Forget that, it's Percy that matters. There has to be a way I can make this up to him. If I can just find the right words to apologize. He's going to hate me. I'm worse than Flint. He TRUSTED me. I picked the moment he was most vulnerable, however unintentionally, to go after him. I couldn't figure things out and then wait to see if he made a move or showed any interest in me, oh no. Because that would have been the smart thing to do.

There was an abrupt dip in the mattress as someone sat on the edge. He closed his eyes tighter and hoped it was a mob come to put him out of his misery.

"Oliver?"

_Percy. What the hell am I going to say?_  "I'm sorry, Percy, I - " the words flowed out without any conscious decision on his part. _And that lack of conscious decision is exactly what landed me here. Think before you speak, Oliver. How many times has Dad told me that._

There was a faint touch on his shoulder before Percy said, hesitantly, "Oliver, would you turn over and look at me? Please?"

_Christ. I can't. Not after - that. He'll have that hunted look in his eyes again, and it will be my fault it's there, this time._ "Percy, no, I- I'm just so sorry. I didn't know I was going to do that, I'm an idiot, I -"

He felt, more than heard, Percy's sigh. "Oliver. Listen to me. I'm not ANGRY."

_Not angry. He should be angry. Why isn't he -_ Oliver flipped around and sat up faster than he'd have thought possible. "You're not angry? Percy, did Flint hit you on the head? This is one of those times when you're Supposed. To. Be. Angry. Percy, my behaviour was inexcusable; I'm no better than FLINT for Christ's sake! I -"

The flow of words was abruptly silenced as Percy's hand covered Oliver's mouth. Oliver finally looked at him, putting as much apology as he could in his eyes.

Percy looked...flustered, exasperated, and a little anxious. When he spoke, it was very slowly and distinctly, the tone he usually reserved for tutoring sessions where the student just wasn't getting it.  _Another thing I never get to do again. Won't be sitting with him in the library while he helps the other students, doing my homework, and oh gods, if Gareth was right, pestering him for attention._

"Oliver. I'm not angry. I just assumed you... err... knew. You're so quick to see everything else."

Oliver looked at him blankly, absently wondering whether he should remove Percy's hand from his mouth.

Percy, clearly picking up on his confusion, sighed in exasperation, and continued. "Two things, Oliver. The kiss was not really unexpected, although the timing of it was. And secondly, where on earth did you get the idea that I mind?"

Stunned, Oliver could only stare, as Percy finally removed his hand. Which was good, because a little part of the back of Oliver's mind, a part he very much disapproved of, had been seriously considering kissing that hand. "Expected? You were expecting me to kiss you?"

Percy shrugged, flushing and starting to look defensive. "Oliver, I -" He paused, obviously trying to think of the best way to phrase it. "Oliver, it's been...well, increasingly obvious that you, well... After you let Flint tell everyone we were dating, it really looked more and more like you - "

"Did EVERYONE know but me?" Oliver exploded. "I never thought I was stupid, but apparently I'm the only person in the entire school who didn't notice I was in love with you!" He flopped back onto the bed with a groan.

There was a long silence, and then a tentative hand settled on his shoulder. It made him think of the other times Percy had re-assured him, tried to cheer him up, and there was a burning sensation behind his closed eyelids that was NOT tears. Even if Percy was forgiving him for his hopelessly unrequited crush, and he still owed Percy such an apology.

"Okay, so you knew I was an obsessed fool ahead of time. I'm still sorry, Percy. I didn't know I was going to kiss you, I swear. I would never have... have just DONE that, like you didn't have a choice, and I know I'm no better than Flint for doing that, so please -"

"Oliver!" Percy said, sharply.

Oliver's eyes snapped open.  _There's the anger. Finally. I deserve it. I can take this like a man, because I take RESPONSIBILITY for my actions. I'm NOT like Flint. I won't BE like Flint._

"Oliver, Marcus Flint is in the Infirmary. With broken bones. And a couple of nasty curses placed on him for good measure. Do you REALLY think, after all this, that I can't defend myself?" Percy's voice was laced with disbelief.

"Gods, no, Percy!" Oliver found himself upright again, directly in Percy's space, but there was nowhere to move with Percy sitting where he was. "I was never in any doubt that you could protect yourself if you chose to. I'm so... proud of what you did today. Telling Dumbledore even more than the driving Flint off. You're always doing stuff like that, because you want to protect other people too, and I ADMIRE that, Percy."

Percy was beet red, a shy smile flitting across his face. "Then I think it's safe to say that I could have stopped you when you kissed me, isn't it," he said.

Bewildered, Oliver tried to figure out where this had gone away from the expected hurt, anger, and disgust. "You could have been in shock. I mean, clearly you -"

"Oliver. Give me some credit. When someone's three inches away from me, both hands on my hips, looking at me like I'm a particularly tasty treat from Hogsmeade, I DO know what the next likely step is." Percy sounded slightly offended. "I HAVE dated, you know."

The blush that struck Oliver then practically caused ringing in his ears. "I was looking - My hands were- I was doing that??"

The irritation faded from Percy's face as he flashed a smile at Oliver. "Yes, Oliver, you did that. You've been doing similar things for a while, but especially the last couple weeks. There's been a time or two I was just tempted to take matters into my own hands and kiss YOU!"

"Why didn't you?" Oliver, asked, before he could stop himself, and now at last Percy looked embarrassed and uncomfortable, and everything Oliver didn't want him to be.

"I - Well, it looked like you wanted - But if I was wrong, I couldn't possibly have faced you and, well, you're my FRIEND, Oliver."

Fear and suspicion froze Oliver for a moment. "Percy, you're not just saying this is mutual because I'm your friend and you feel sorry or grateful, are you? Because you deserve better than - "

He was cut off by a very brief, but very determined kiss that stole any further hope of speech. Possibly ever.

Percy sat back and looked at him, a stubborn jut to his chin, radiating a silent 'Deny THAT, Oliver Wood!'

Oliver attempted to remember words. He knew he'd used them in the past. "You were trying to get away, when I - downstairs in the common room," he said, lost.

Percy silently held up his left hand, turning it so Oliver could see the bruises. "You grabbed the hand I hurt earlier. I haven't had a chance to get Healed yet," he said, shyly, after a moment of Oliver's confusion.

Oliver barely managed to refrain from catching hold of the injured hand for a closer look, cursing Flint once again. "You really... want this? Us? The kissing and..." he asked, needing confirmation.

"Have you been LISTENING to a word I've said, Oliver? Yes! It's all right that you love me. Yes, it's mutual! I WANT you to want me, and I want the kissing and the closeness, and the stupid, goofy smile, and the way you're always touching me like I'm something important to you, and the way everything seems BETTER when you're around. I love you! I was always attracted to you; I just never got to know you well enough till this year to fall right over into the horrifying abyss that is gay teenaged love!" Exasperation was heading right on into anger by the end of the tirade, and Oliver did the exact worst thing he could ever have done at that point.

He laughed.

Percy was up off the bed and taking the first furious stride towards the door when Oliver grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back onto the bed.

Percy glared.

Oliver grinned.

The glare diminished into a look of sullen discontent.

Oliver kissed him, hoping with all his might that his heart wasn't going to hammer its way right out of his chest...

"Are you done having your breakdown?" Percy asked, a glint of amusement appearing.

"Yes." Oliver rolled his eyes fondly. "I'm done having my 'breakdown'. Can't a fellow have a moral crisis without becoming the object of mockery around here?"

Percy leaned in a little closer, making Oliver want to squirm, and kissed Oliver. On the chin. It was... sweet. Something he could get used to. "No," Percy said.

"No?" Having forgotten the prior topic of conversation in favour of appreciating the feel of Percy leaning against him, Oliver froze.

"No, you cannot have a breakdown of this nature without being subjected to SOME amount of mockery," Percy said, falling into his habitual precision.

Oliver grinned, relaxing, and then flopped back on the bed again, pulling Percy with him.

"Oliver!" Percy sounded startled. "I - " He was really flustered, and Oliver grew uneasy again. "I should probably say now, that I - I'm not - We need time to... Slow is good."

"Slow is good." Oliver repeated, baffled.  _Slow what?_

"Yes, " Percy said, more firmly. "I just want to take this whole relationship thing slowly, I'm not ready - that is-"

_Oh!_  "Slow is good," Oliver said hurriedly. "It took us four months to get to the kissing, I don't think we need to rush into - that is, I don't even - "  _I'm babbling. Great. Percy can reduce me to all new levels of babbling idiocy. Just what I needed. I can't even, I'd want to, of course, but... I mean, I grasp the mechanics, we had that class with Snape, but-_

"Okay," said Percy with a relieved sigh. "No rush." He leaned down to kiss Oliver again, and Oliver could feel the smile when he pulled Percy in closer.  
"My eyes! No snogging in the room!" Gareth's indignant voice sent them both flying to opposite ends of the bed.

"Uh," Oliver said intelligently, red-faced

"We weren't - " Percy added, equally helpful, and equally blushing.

Gareth snickered, and Davin pushed him the rest of the way into the room. "Stop blocking the way, you lazy arse! If they're doing anything that would work for blackmail, I want to get my camera!"

Oliver closed his eyes in pain. He's managed to block out the remembrance that he would have a great deal of explaining to do to the rest of his friends. He glanced at Percy, who was looking somewhere between mortified and pleased, a combination he really didn't want to question too closely.  _This is going to be interesting..._

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was born out of my love for unreliable narrators. Oliver, bless him, isn't the most self-aware of boys. 
> 
> The story itself is, of course, problematic for a number of reasons. In real life, you can't make people accept your help, and Oliver's first options should have been along the lines of:  
> 1) Asking Percy what he could do to help, rather than charging in with what he felt were the answers.  
> 2) He should have let McGonagall know that he thought there was a problem, even though Percy would have been angry with him.
> 
> As for Percy, he's a study in contradictions here. Panicked and self-loathing one moment, competent and take-charge another, and painfully shy in yet others. Which is actually pretty normal for humans, and Oliver being Oliver, he tends to just accept and deal with Percy as Percy is in that moment. 
> 
> Somewhere on LiveJournal or on my hard drive, I have a partially written version of this story from Percy's point of view. Part of his viewpoint of the situation with Marcus comes from having reached out to his older brother Bill, but with a very vague and much milder hypothetical situation - then fixating on a minor part of the answer, that the person in question should make sure she or he was not sending mixed messages out of a desire to avoid being unkind to her unwanted suitor.


End file.
